


Another Onigiri in the Fruits Basket

by ariesjinx



Series: The Unexpected Family of Harry Potter [2]
Category: Fruits Basket, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Family, Gen, M/M, Male Slash, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:52:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 103,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariesjinx/pseuds/ariesjinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a secret no one knew, not even the person involved. The only sole witnesses are either dead or have chosen to forget the event entirely. So how does Harry find out what this secret is? Tohru's in for a great surprise when a stranger shows up at her school. A stranger from England that claims to have some relation to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Japan Welcomes Harrison

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo! I'm Marie Tomlinson (Not my real name, duh!). I've always wanted to do a story like this but I'm afraid not many people will read it . . . well, let's give it a try.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Fruits Basket, although I wish I did!

_“All passengers boarding flight A16 please move to the platform now, the flight to Japan is now boarding. All passengers boarding flight A16 please move to the platform now, the flight to Japan is now boarding.”_

       

Harrison James Potter, also known by many as Harry, looked up from the book he had been reading –  _From Blessing to Curse: Olden Age Afflictions_  – to see a long line forming outside of the door nearest to him. He softly closed said book and packed it away discreetly – he didn’t want any nosy busybodies sneaking a look at the title – before leaning down and picking up his messenger bag, his only item, period.

He didn’t know for sure how long he was going to be staying in Japan, but he still packed light, extremely light. It would be very simple for him to get any other necessities once he was there so he wasn’t needlessly worried about that.

With one look around the crowded seating area through his dirty, thin glasses, Harry stood up and joined the line boarding the aero plane to Japan. He was nervous, which was to be expected. It was, after all, his first time on an aero plane and he was worried something might go wrong.

Now, don’t get him wrong, Harry wasn’t afraid of  _flying_ , in fact he loved it. It was the idea of flying in an aero plane, a metal contraption that was not supposed to be in the air, which scared him. For all he knew, the thing could catch on fire and explode.

He’d seen something like that in a Muggle film once.

As the line slowly inched forward, Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his faded jeans and then reached into his pocket and pulled out his very much wrinkled ticket.

“Ticket please,” the flight attendant, a small woman with short bottle-blonde hair and too-white teeth, said. Harry handed over his ticket nervously, considering for one moment not handing it in at all. He wondered if the security guards would come to drag him away if he didn’t. The vision was oddly hilarious to him, but he stifled the laugh so as not to appear insane, although he was amid to admit that something might have come unhinged in the past year.

The attendant gave him a blinding, overly suggestive, smile, which he returned reluctantly before moving on. And as he walked down the tunnel that would lead him to the aero plane, Harry considered – not for the first time – bailing. But, like when he was in the taxi, or when he was going through security, or even when he spent the thirty minutes waiting for the flight, he talked himself out of it. There was no courage in that, and he was the epitome of courage, besides this was very important.

Once he was in his seat, he pulled out his very much worn book and dived into it, hoping the small printed words would take his mind off the death trap he was now riding in.

Twelve hours later, Harry left the noisy Tokyo airport and wandered out into the bustling popular city.

He stared in awe at the bright flashing lights and the fussy traffic. It was actually his first time in a big city, and he was absolutely ecstatic. All the whistles, and yells; the smells and shops; the buzz of constant activity. It was a wonder that no one seemed to get lost. They all seemed to know where they were going or what they were doing; and it all pulled Harry into an excited lull. Everything felt new, just waiting for him to discover them. And for the first time in years he felt completely and utterly free. 

* * *

_The darkness pressed down on me and the occasional red or green flash of light lit up the cloudy sky like fireworks. But I knew they were not fireworks, no . . . they were something much more sinister._

_I passed by a broken window and the sound of loud piercing screams stabbed at my ears. Try as I might to block them out, they wouldn’t leave me, lingering in the air long after the actual sound had disappeared behind me._

_I ran down the stone steps, nearly tripping over them in my rush, and as I got lower the screams started up once more._

_“I’ve found him! There’s Potter,” someone shouted from below me and then a stream of bright red whizzed past my ear. I ducked out of the way, dropping to the ground before rolling._

_And then I was falling down the stairs._

_I landed with a thud – and a suspicious splash – at the bottom of the steps and groaned. Slowly I opened my eyes and nearly screamed at what I saw._

_A young girl laid near me, her head twisted up to look unseeingly at the ceiling. Her stomach was ravaged, as if some animal had been trying to tear into her, and blood pooled around her._

_When I stood up I realized that I had fallen into it, and it was that that had caused the splash._

_Blood coated my clothes and when I raised my hand to my face and pulled back, I could see the crimson liquid smeared onto my hand._

_Her blood, on my hands – I had caused this._

_And then, I actually did scream._  

* * *

Harry took a deep breath to steady his nerves before he pushed aside the gate and walked slowly up to the large house that seemed to loom over him.

It was a perfect square with a pristine looking garden and a straight stone walkway. A perfect house; and Harry despised every bit of it – nothing could possibly be that perfect. The supposed home gave off a cold aura, not at all what one would expect from a comfortable, lived-in building.

Walking up Harry took another deep breath at the door and then rang the bell. And then he stopped breathing at all as he waited for the door to open, and when it did, he thought he might just faint from lack of oxygen.

“Hello? How can I help you?”

The thin pale woman standing at the door questioned through the small crack in the door that she had made. Harry sent the suspicious woman a nervous smile hoping that would ease her nerves.

“Um . . . yes, actually, uh . . . are you Naruse Sayuki-san,” he asked, stumbling over the foreign words as they pressed past his lips. He had made good with a bit of translation magic, but hearing the words he had not learned come out of his mouth was an odd experience.

“ _Hai_.” Sayuki shifted her weight and opened the door a little bit more before leaning against the frame, her pale face pressed against the dark wood as her dark green eyes narrowed.

“Oh . . . um . . . well . . . I’m sorry to bother you, honestly Miss, but um . . .” Harry let his eyes travel around for a bit before he asked, “Can I come in?”

She hesitated and glanced behind her with a nervous expression before turning back to look at Harry.

“That wouldn’t be . . . a good idea,” she said hesitantly and Harry nodded slowly in understanding. He did show up unexpectedly and Sayuki couldn’t possibly know who he was. “Can’t you just? . . .” She waved her hand impatiently to urge him to tell her his business and then leave.

Harry swallowed thickly and his fingers began to twist nervously into the fabric of his black long sleeve.

“That’s okay. I  _am_  sorry for dropping by unexpectedly,” he focused his luminous eyes on her and hoped he could convey his sincerity that way, “but . . . well I came across some information a while ago . . . and . . .”

“And,” Sayuki prompted, growing just the slightest bit annoyed with the young man before her. She’d never had much patience for kids before, not even her own children; and this boy was talking in circles. Harry hesitated for a fraction of a second, not sure how to pose his question without coming off as needy or pushy or even intrusive.

“Well . . . um . . . did you . . . did you ever give up a daughter for adoption.” He said the last part in a rush, hoping to deal with this like the band-aid effect. The question, however, had Sayuki’s back up and Harry could tell that he had treaded into dangerous waters. It was too late to back out and so he just swallowed nervously and waited for the rebuff as Sayuki glared at him openly for the first time.

“Who told you about that,” she hissed venomously and then, without waiting for an answer, she threw the door open and grabbed Harry’s arm, her grip so tight it almost cut off all the blood circulation in his wrist as she pulled him into a dimly lit hallway. It was bare and looked too polished and clean, like the owner had nothing to do  _but_  clean it. There was no distinction, no pictures or artwork that hinted at any originality. For all Harry knew, he could have just walked into a model home or a place where the people hardly visited.

“Sayuki,” a male voice called out from one of the rooms lining the hallway. The door to the left of Harry slid open and a man with red-ish brown hair walked out. He took one look at Harry through his thin glasses before pinning his wife with a questioning stare.

“Who is this,” he asked smoothly, his voice like a rough whisper that could rise unexpectedly into a mind numbing yell. Harry shiver slightly as the sound echoed in his mind.

“Oh . . . right . . . I’m Harrison Potter, but you can call me Harry.”

Harry held out his hand in a polite greeting, even as his senses warned him to leave, but he then dropped it when the man made no moved to shake it.

Sayuki moved away from Harry to stand by her husband and he leaned down as she whispered in his ear, lowly, probably hoping that Harry wouldn’t hear, “He knows, Hiroshi. I don’t know why but he asked about  _her_.”

Hiroshi looked down at her for a split second, scowling, before looking over at Harry with eyes as hard as diamond.

“What do  _you_  want?” His tone had Harry’s back up and he did everything in his power to control his urge to react negatively. He did not know what these two were trying to hide, but he needed information and they were his only lead.

“Well . . . my mother . . . she was Lily . . . your oldest daughter. I was just —”

“We don’t care and we don’t want you here. We got rid of her when we could and that was the end of it so why don’t you just  _leave_ ,” Sayuki spat out and for a moment Harry was reminded forcibly of the people he had grew up with.

Harry’s mouth fell into a frown and he stared at the two before him with new eyes.

This was not what he had expected when he found out that he had grandparents, and although he had no idea what they were like, or what they’ve been through, he knew they would not care as to what had happened to him or the daughter they had no doubt been happy to give away. With a sigh, Harry stomped down the urge to turn around and leave. Instead he asked another question, hoping that this one might be of some solace to him.

“Well . . . can I just ask: Is there anyone else —?”

“Look that trouble maker Kyoko left a long time ago with some child and that Honda man. Go find them and leave us be.”

Harry’s frown deepened and he nodded slowly before giving into his urges and turning around and leaving the house. He felt empty and weighed down as if some heavy rock now sat on his chest. Here he had expected to find some actual family, only to find out that they didn’t want him. He didn’t know why he was disappointed though. He was used to people not wanting him. No one ever seemed to want him. In the end, they just wanted to use him.

Harrison heaved a huge sigh before walking away from that dark house and not looking back. He instead focused on finding Kyoko Honda, who he was guessing was his mother’s sister. If nothing else, she could at least listen to him for a minute. Just listening to him was all he wanted at the moment. Already he had given up hope on ever finding another family. 

* * *

_“Kill the spare . . .” A high, deadly cold voice whispered, the sound of it echoing through the silent cemetery._

_I turned slowly to look at the teen beside me, and then fear spread across my face when the words registered._

_In that single moment, brown eyes connected with my wide green ones and then a flash of green light erupted, like a bright firework. I watched as all the light left those brown eyes and the teen crumbled to the floor._

_Dead._  

* * *

It took Harry a week to track down any trace of Kyoko Honda and by then he had strengthen his resolve.

It turns out that in her earlier days Kyoko had been a delinquent, and with parents like those that Harry had met, he couldn’t blame her. His reformed aunt had gotten married shortly after dropping out of middle school, when she was 15, to the teacher’s aide, a man named Katsuya Honda. Shortly after marriage the two had a child and three years later Katsuya died of pneumonia. Harry didn’t know what had happened to Kyoko after that, but he wasn’t expecting anything from her. He wasn’t going to hope.

With a sigh, Harry shook those thoughts away and looked up at the house before him. He frowned at it.

It didn’t loom like the house of his grandparents, it was wider and had a more cheery feeling to it, and yet Harry was still the slightest bit tense. He didn’t know what to expect. He was about to meet his deceased uncle’s father and he was more nervous then when he had been meeting his mother’s parents. He wasn’t sure if the man would accept him or push him away like his grandparents did, and that unknown frankly frightened him.

“Come on Potter,” he whispered to himself, frowning as he walked up to the front door. He reached out a shaky hand to ring the doorbell. Long after it sounded it continued to echo inside his head. He shifted nervously as the door opened and a small bald man stood in the doorway. He peered up at Harry with squinted eyes before a slow smile spread across his lips. Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the smile. It was an act of kindness and showed that if this man was willing to be kind to a stranger, than he would be a tad bit warmer to a family member.

“Hello there, how may I help you?”

“Um . . . I’m Harrison Potter . . . my . . . my mother was sisters with Kyoko Honda,” Harry stammered, twisting his hands nervously.

“Oh . . . I wasn’t aware that Kyoko-san had a sister,” the old man muttered lowly.

“She didn’t know. My mother was adopted before . . . Kyoko-san was born. No one knew,” he informed the man before adding, “Sir,” and his voice slipped into English in his nervousness. Harry shifted and the old man finally took notice Harry’s awkwardness.

“Oh . . . how rude. Why don’t you come inside for a cup of tea?”

“Oh no, I don’t want to be a burden,” Harry declined politely. “I was just wondering if you knew where I can find Kyoko.” The old man looked down for a moment before looking up again and giving a sad smile.

“You really should come inside,” He suggested and then, without waiting for a response, he turned and walked into the house. Harry watched the man go, teetering in the doorway before he followed. He found the man in the kitchen, pouring two cups of tea. He motioned for Harry to sit before taking a seat for himself.

“Thank you,” Harry thanked politely before taking a sip. The warm liquid slid down his throat and spread through his body. Harry sighed and his body relaxed on reflex.

“Potter-san —” The old man began only for Harry to raise his hand, cutting him off.

“Please, call me Harry.”

“Then you can call me Oto-san, everyone does.” Harry blushed and nodded his head, taking another sip of the very delicious tea.

“Well, Harry-kun . . . I didn’t think Kyoko-san had a nephew so I never knew. . . .” Oto-san heaved a deep sigh and a sad look took over his eyes and Harry knew. He didn’t have to say anything; Harry knew exactly what had happened to Kyoko Honda.

“Oh . . . I see,” Harry whispered and his heart sank. He felt so stupid. Without realizing it, he had begun to hope. He had begun to wish that he would find a loving family in this aunt that he did not know, and that wasn’t a good thing. Harry sighed and then asked, “How . . . when did it happen?”

Oto-san smiled a little sad smile and sighed again.

“A year ago,” he answered. “It was a car accident. No one saw it coming. I fear Tohru-kun still hasn’t completely gotten over it.”

“Tohru,” Harry asked, finding the name unfamiliar. Oto-san nodded and his smile lightened a bit.

“Oh yes, Tohru-kun would be your cousin. If you want, I could give you her address and you can go and visit her.” Harry nodded and his heart fluttered a little at the thought of finally meeting a family member even if it was just a cousin.

“That would be nice, but may I ask: Why doesn’t she live here, if you’re the only family left,” he questioned, his curiosity spilling over. He couldn’t help but find it weird that an orphan would not take refuge with the only family willing to take them, and Oto-san really did seem like he wanted Tohru. And Harry understood the feeling. It was the same feeling he often felt for his godson Teddy. In a way, having Teddy would be like having a reminder of the ones he had lost.

“Oh, I’m sorry to say that she wasn’t very happy here,” Oto-san spoke, breaking into Harry’s thoughts. “My side of the family wasn’t as fond of Kyoko-san as I was. In fact, they believed Kyoko-san was the one that killed Katsuya, and I do believe that they like to take it out on Tohru-kun. As much as I would love for her to be here, I couldn’t let her stay here with them. They are rather cruel people. But she lives with some nice men, and I know they will take good care of her.” Oto-san finished by looking at him with an odd twinkle in his eye that reminded Harry painfully of a passed mentor.

“I see,” Harry repeated and lifted his cup to take another sip of his tea. 

* * *

_I watched as if in slow motion, already knowing as the man laughed what was about to happen._

_The man spread his arms too wide, his stunning spell just missing his target by a hair. A red stream of light whizzed under his outstretched arms and hit him square in the chest. And then a look of utter puzzlement passed over his gaunt face. The smile slowly disappeared as he tilted back, falling off of the dais and heading straight for the swirling green veil._

_I wasn’t aware I was running or screaming as I watched the body slowly disappear behind the veil. I wasn’t aware of it until I felt iron like arms wrap around my waist, restraining me._

_I struggled fruitlessly against the hold, reaching my arms out toward the veil, as if I could somehow touch the man who had disappeared behind it. My mind could not comprehend._

_Why wasn’t anyone trying to help? Why wasn’t he walking out from behind the veil? Was he hiding? I wanted desperately to yell, to tell him that it wasn’t funny. This wasn’t a game! But I couldn’t breathe. My throat was clogged and my eyes stung uncomfortable. It took me a minute to realize I was crying._

_“SIRIUS! SIRIUS!”_

_“There’s nothing you can do, Harry —” the man restraining me whispered too calmly in my ear. I didn’t like this calm; it conflicted too greatly with the chaos around me._

_“Get him, save him, he’s only just gone through,” I snapped. I refused to listen to what he was saying._

_“_ —  _it’s too late, Harry.”_

_“We can still reach him —” But I knew even then that Lupin was right. I figured it out before he even said the words._

_“There’s nothing you can do, Harry . . . nothing . . . he’s gone.”_

_And he was right. No one came from around the veil. All around me the battle continued. No one seemed to notice that Sirius was missing, and it was in that moment that the realization hit me. And with a force I didn’t know I had, I pushed away from Lupin and rounded on Sirius’s last opponent, revenge on my mind._  

* * *

“I heard he’s British. I bet he has a wonderful accent.”

“Well, I doubt he could measure up to Prince Yuki-sama, and don’t Brits have, like, yellow teeth or something?”

“Oh,  _god_ , you’re right! What was I thinking?”

“Ugh,” Uotani, Arisa moaned, rolling her brown eyes at the two girls gossiping across the room. Their loud whispers penetrate the silence that normal filled the classroom this early on in the day. “Do they  _ever_  shut up?” She looked questioningly at her two best friends, Honda, Tohru and Hanajima, Saki.

“Um . . . ah . . .” Tohru stammered, not having the heart to talk about anyone, no matter how annoying they might be. Arisa smiled at that. She had expected much of her very best friend. Tohru was just like that, too kind for her own good.

“But I do admit, that I am slightly curious,” Saki spoke up softly from behind Tohru, where she was braiding the brunette’s hair. “It’s odd to have a transfer so late in the year.” Arisa hummed her agreement before a grin spread across her face.

“Well, let’s just hope he’s not a complete stick in the mud, we could use some more entertainment around here. Kyon just isn’t cutting it anymore.” Arisa chuckled lightly at the thought of a certain orange haired teen, and then her thought turned down a less innocent path as she though over what she could do next to get a rise out of said teen.

“Oh, I wonder if he’s nice,” Tohru piped up, cutting off Arisa’s dark thought, her face bright with excitement. “I wonder what kind of person he is!”

Saki and Arisa shared an amused look at that. Their first and mostly only friend was extra special in that way. No matter the person, she was always willing to meet and befriend them, and she never judged even after she met them. With a fond smile the two girls watched as their very best friend continued to ramble on in her oh-so-adorable way. 

* * *

For the third time in the few days that he had been in Japan, Harry found himself once more standing nervously outside of a door.

He had not done as Oto-san had suggested and visited Tohru.

Nope.

He just couldn’t deal with so much stress in such a short period of time, and he was patient enough to wait a few days at the very least. Instead he had enrolled himself into the local high school. It had been years since he had last stepped foot into a normal school and he had to admit that the idea frightened him just a little bit.

The unreasonable fears that he had been struggling to push back rose once more.

What if no one liked him? What if he was treated like a freak? What if they all ignored him or hated him for being foreign? So many of these questions plagued his thoughts, and he found it hard to ignore them. It wasn’t right, why should he care so much of what others thought of him. He thought he’d been over that by now, but it appeared not. These fears gripped him in a tight strangle hold.

And that is what led the dark haired teen to stand outside of his new class nervously.

So far, what he had seen of the school had him somewhat downhearted. But then again, not all schools could be as mystical and wonderful as his old one. Harry sighed and shook his head, freeing himself of those thoughts. He focused now on the present, but that did nothing to help. His hands clenched into a tight ball, and the scar on his right hand was momentarily visible against his pale skin, the words:  _I must not tell lies,_  forever etched into its surface.

“Suck it up Potter, where’s that Gryffindor courage now,” he whispered to himself, and then he took a deep calming breath. Steadying himself he pulled open the door and was met with twenty pairs of eyes.

A hushed silence fell over the room and Harry walked purposefully toward the teacher and handed her the note he had been given at the Front Office. The homeroom teacher, who he was sure was called Mayu-sensei – it was weird not calling a teacher Professor – looked down at the notice with a skeptical expression before looking back up at him.

“Alright then, Potter-san,” she said before turning to the class. “Everyone, this is Potter Harrison-san. He’ll be joining us for the remainder of the year.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably under all the scrutinizing stares and thanked every deity known to man when Mayu-sensei told him to go sit in the back.

“Sohma Yuki-kun, raise your hand.”

A grey haired teen raised his hand in the air and Harry went over to sit in the empty seat behind him. Whispers followed him around the room, and he gratefully sank down into his chair and for the first time in the history of his schooling days, gave the teacher his undivided attention. 

* * *

The new boy was shy, that much Tohru could tell in the time that she spent sitting near him. Throughout the day, not once did he speak, instead he slouched in his seat and stared straight ahead, as if he were wishing the room would disappear. Tohru felt sympathetic toward him. It must have been very hard to move to an entirely different country and in the middle of the year. But besides the feeling of sympathy, Tohru was also amazed.

Potter Harrison-san was very beautiful, and in a totally different way than Yuki-kun was beautiful. If possible Potter-san was more feminine then the Prince. Maybe it was because he was shorter than most boys, almost as short as Tohru. Or maybe it was because he had longer hair. Or maybe it was because his eyes were wider than a boy’s. But then, it could have been all three. Whatever it was, Tohru knew that it wouldn’t be long before another club started for Potter-san. And quite frankly, she couldn’t blame the other girls.

Potter-san was almost  _too_  beautiful.

With his thick long lashes that framed his almond-shaped emerald eyes, and threw shadows over his cheeks. His long hair that was a stylish disarray, curling around his face and dropping down his back. His thin, wiry frame with the hint of muscle that Tohru thought only Sohmas possessed and that pale, flawless, translucent skin. The teen was the epitome of beauty and it all proved to stun the female, and the odd male, population.

But Tohru could also see past that.

In the one moment when Potter-san had glanced in her direction, most likely to look out the window, Tohru had seen a sea of emotion in the pools of emerald. Pain, sorrow, depression, fear, and some other emotions that she couldn’t distinguished had flashed through his eyes in that one instant, and then he had turned away and the sun shining through the window had hit his glasses, throwing back a glare.

All those emotions had Tohru’s heart clenching in sadness. She couldn’t understand. How could a normal teen feel all that and yet appear perfectly normal. And it was in that moment that Tohru had made a new resolution to add to her other one. She was determined to help this lonely teen in any way possible.

“Hey,” Arisa suddenly called to her, leaning back in her seat as she continued to stare at their math teacher. “Are we inviting the new kid for lunch,” she asked, whispering out of the side of her mouth. Tohru saw Saki’s eyes shift over to them for a moment, showing that she was also listening.

“Well,” Tohru whispered slowly, not wanting to disrupt class but also wanting to answer the question. “I think we should. He looks a little lonely.” Arisa’s brown eyes shifted away from the teacher to glance over at the boy sitting a little bit behind her.

“Hmm,” Saki hummed thoughtfully. “Yes, he does emit some lonely waves,” she muttered. “They’re twisted, and dark, and oppressed, and . . . odd.” A crease had appeared between her brows, hinting at her slight confusion. Tohru wanted to question if something was wrong, and then Saki spoke again, like she had heard Tohru’s thoughts.

“His waves are strange, not normal at all, but even odder than that of the Sohmas. And, he seems . . . like he has a lot of hidden power. So . . . strange . . .” Tohru’s eyes widened a little and she opened her mouth, wanting to know exactly what her wave sensing friend meant, but at that moment the teacher had called the end to the class and the scrapping of chairs signaled the beginning of the lunch period. And Tohru was easily diverted, her thoughts shifting back toward the boy still staring at his desk.

“Let’s do it now,” Tohru instructed her friends standing up as they came to stand beside her. She noted vaguely that Kyo and Yuki had disappeared from the room, something that seemed almost normal from them now, and she wondered if they would be joining her for lunch also. If not, she hoped they got a chance to eat some of the food she made them, they didn’t seem to do that much.

“ _Oi_ , Potter.” Arisa’s voice broke through her thoughts and she turned to look at the boy at the exact same time as he turned to look up at them. Bright emerald eyes that were hidden behind thin glasses focused to stare at the three of them, and Tohru noted that shock, sadness, and a hint of longing lingered inside of them. Arisa, who didn’t seem to sense the boy’s isolation, smirked and tilted her head to the side as she waited for a response.

“Um . . . hullo,” he muttered lowly, almost a whisper, and Tohru’s heart jumped a little at the sound of his voice, for it was the first time he had spoken. The sound was low and the accent was thick and captivating. And then he smiled hesitantly and Tohru was dazzled, much like whenever Yuki or Kyo smiled. Shaking her head, Tohru moved around Arisa.

“Hi,” she greeted happily, bowing deeply at him. When she stood back up she could tell that she had startled the boy a little. He was obviously not used to Japanese customs. Tohru pushed that aside for another time and moved to introduce herself and her friends. “I’m Honda Tohru and these are my best friends Uotani Arisa and Hanajima Saki.”

Harrison blinked, his eyes revolving over each of their faces before his hesitant smile turned into a full blown grin. Tohru drew in a breath, stunned, but she noticed that even though he seemed genuinely please there was still an underlining sadness in his eyes.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said in that beautiful voice. “I’d introduce myself but I think you already know my name.” And then he chuckled lowly, a pleasing rich sound that had the girls remaining in the room sighing dreamily.

“Potter-san,” Saki spoke up in her monotone voice. “Our Tohru would like to know if you would join us for lunch today.” Tohru blushed at the ‘our Tohru’ part, but she nodded when Harrison looked inquiringly at her.

“It would be my pleasure,” he accepted politely and Tohru blushed even more.

“O-okay.” He chuckled at Tohru’s stammered agreement before standing and the four left the room. They stopped in their normal spot, under a large Sakura tree on the edge of the school grounds. After settling down with their food, Harrison eating what he told them was called a sandwich, Tohru spoke, attempting small talk.

“So, Potter-san,” she began to ask, but Harrison cut her off when he raised his hand. He gave her an apologetic smile before stating his reason for interrupting.

“It’s okay to just call me Harry.” He told them and when Tohru opened her mouth to protest he cut her off again. “Please, I insist,” and then, as if he knew her and how she would likely react, he added, “Japanese customs make me nervous.” Tohru blushed and nodded her head in understanding.

“I-I’m sorry,” she apologized, bowing her head. “I-I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Oh, how stupid of me. I —”

“Tohru, Tohru,” Harry called with a chuckle. “It’s okay. It’s nothing to fret about.”

“Oh, o-okay, um . . . well . . .”

“Hum,” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side curiously, and looked adorable while doing it. His dark bangs slid to the side, revealing something etched into his forehead.

“Oh, I . . . I don’t mean to pry,” Tohru stammered, twirling her finger nervously in her lap. She didn’t want to come off as intrusive but she was really curious. “But . . . um . . . what brings you to Japan?” Harry straightened and then shrugged nonchalantly but Tohru didn’t miss the tightening of his eyes.

“Oh, I just happened to trace my mother’s family back here.” Tohru muttered a soft ‘Oh,’ and she noted the way he said mother, with the loving care of a person who had lost someone dear to them.

“What happened to her,” Arisa asked rather bluntly, and Tohru shot her a tense look, begging her to back off. She had a bad feeling she knew what had happened to Harry’s mother.

“She died,” Harry deadpanned, yet despite his uncaring attitude, his eyes seemed to darken going from a bright emerald to a forest green. His sorrow was almost a tangible taste in the air, thick and suffocating almost. It seemed to pick him up and wrap around him and yet he didn’t seem to fully notice its presence.

“Oh no,” Tohru gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. “That’s horrible. Your father must feel —”

“He’s dead, too,” Harry cut in matter-of-factly, and Tohru’s heart sank.

Tears sprang from her eyes when she realized that they were in the same boat. It was no doubt that Harry felt the same dark depression she hid deep inside her heart, but Tohru could see that he was suffering instead of coping. Acknowledging it but not conquering it, he was letting it simmer inside of himself, and Tohru could see that. But as Harry looked over at her he seemed to climb over that feeling, squish it down, and his expression flashed from shock and then to something much softer, something Tohru wouldn’t expect to see come from a complete stranger. And he aimed this foreign expression at her, why, she did not know.

“Don’t cry,” he crooned in a soft voice, like seeing her cry hurt him both physically and mentally. “It happened a long time ago,” he explained, and he raised his hand, like he was reaching out to her but thought better of it and let it drop at his side. “I was too young to remember. And . . . and the guy who did it paid dearly for his crimes.” The last part was said darkly, almost like an afterthought, and Arisa raised her blonde eyebrows at him, like what he said hinted at something deeper. Tohru didn’t catch it, too caught up in the fact that this boy was parentless at an age in which he could scarcely remember them. However, before the subject could be stretched and expressed upon, the Sohma teens walked over to them.

“Hey guys,” the ever bubbly Momiji chirped, plopping down beside Tohru. His cheerful disposition broke the thick tension that had previously tainted the air, and the four slipped back into something more normal, more familiar for a bunch of teens. The blonde boy looked around the group and gave them all a sugary smile before his eyes locked onto Harry. He tilted his head to the side and considered the dark-haired teen.

“Oh, Potter-san, you’re here as well,” Yuki asked giving the boy a polite smile that didn’t really reach his lavender eyes. Harry blinked before nodding his head in a mutual greeting.

“Yes, I am,” he murmured, and the Sohmas blinked, taken aback by his heavy accent or in Yuki and Kyo’s case, the fact that he was talking. “And you can just call me Harry.”

“Wow,” Momiji gasped when he had reeled in his shock. He leaned forward toward Harry, breaching the teen’s personal bubble and Harry leaned back, looking a bit uneasy. “You have a _really_  thick accent! Where are you from?” Momiji’s warm brown eyes roamed over Harry’s face and then his keen eyes caught sight of something hidden beneath Harry's thick bangs. “Oo, what’s that,” He asked, pointing rudely at Harry’s forehead and the scar that had always set him apart from others, that had made him a marked man. “Is that a scar? It looks like a lightning bolt! That’s so cool! How’d you get it?”

“Hum . . .” Harry hummed lowly, his eyes darting around as if he were looking for some kind of escape, for, even though he was sitting outside by a tree, he had suddenly felt very much like an animal caught in a trap. Momiji was still staring, and Harry began to fiddle with the cuff of his school uniform.

“Momiji,” Hatsuharu spoke up in a monotonous tone, his voice deep and drawling without meaning to be. “You’re making him nervous.” Harry shot Haru a thankful look that quickly disappeared when he realized that Momiji wasn’t so easily swayed. The boy, for he was quite small to be anything but that, leaned back and pinned Harry with an inquisitive gaze. Harry stared back, looking thoughtful as if he were pondering on whether he should answer the young Sohma’s question. Tohru noticed that he looked down at his right hand for a moment before he answered, although he didn’t look back up.

“Yes,” he muttered lowly. “It is a scar.” And then he added, as an afterthought, “I got it when I was one, the same day my parents were killed.”

A thick silence fell over the group and once again Tohru’s heart went out to the boy. It was sad to see that this teen had been orphaned at such a young age, barely a year to spend with those who had given him life. Barely a year to feel the love that only a parent, a mother and a father could give.

Finally Harry looked up and Tohru was pulled into the intense stare he pointed at her.

“Maybe I could tell you someday,” he asked, looking hopeful, his question only meant for her. His green eyes pulsed and glowed, causing a dark red blush to coated Tohru’s cheeks and she nodded slowly, offering him a soft and sincere smile. She would do anything to help the anguished teen if she could, even if it was just listening to his story.

“I’d been happy to hear it,” Tohru spoke softly, ducking her head as she said the words. Beside her, Kyo glared heatedly at Harry. He didn’t like the way the new teen was looking at Tohru. Something in the boy’s eyes had his back up. Harry gaze suddenly shifted toward him, as if he had heard his thoughts, but Kyo knew that couldn’t be true. And then Harry smirked and winked at him, as if to prove him wrong, that he  _could_  read his thoughts, and Kyo blanched.

The ringing of the school bell had everyone jumping up in shock, and they all rushed so as not to be late for class.

“Tohru, wait,” Harry suddenly called, grabbing at Tohru’s arm and wrapping his finger’s around her thin wrist. She stopped, turning to look at him with curious eyes. Yuki, Kyo, Arisa, and Saki hung back to wait for her, Momiji and Haru already heading off for their class.

“What is it Harry-san?”

“Later . . . can I tell you something?”

Tohru tilted her head a little, her confusion evident, but she agreed none the least. She wasn’t sure what Harry wanted to tell her, but she was willing to listen.

She was always willing to listen. 

* * *

Harry shifted nervously as he waited for Tohru outside of the school gate. He wasn’t sure how the girl would take the news he was about to give her. Would she push him away? Tohru didn’t seem like that kind of person, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe she had been crying purely out of pity. That though had Harry frowning; he hated it when people showed him pity. But then again, she was in the same situation as he was. They were both orphans, both without the love of their parents.

“Harry-san,” Tohru’s soft voice brought Harry out of his depressing thoughts. He looked up to see the girl standing before him and a few feet away, her friends hovered, looking at him suspiciously. Harry chuckled mentally at that. It was obvious that they were all overprotective of Tohru and Harry could kind of understand why, Tohru seemed like she was one of those people who needed protection.

“Hey, Tohru,” Harry greeted back, pushing away from the wall he had been leaning against. He lifted his arm and scratched the back of his head as he looked around, hoping the words might just come to him. “Um . . . I . . . I don’t really know how to say this,” he muttered. Harry took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Okay, well . . . I’m your cousin.”

When Harry looked up after a moment to judge Tohru’s reaction he was surprised to see that she was just smiling at him.

“Oh, I didn’t know my father had foreign relatives,” she commented softly.

“No, not from your father’s side,” Harry told her, shaking his head, and his bangs flopped into his eyes before he moved them. “My mum was your mother’s older sister.” Now the right reaction crossed Tohru’s face: shock.

“I-I didn’t know Mom had —”

“No one knew,” Harry whispered, cutting her off. “My mum was adopted before your mother was born, when she was six. The only ones that knew were our grandparents and the people who adopted my mum.”

Tohru nodded her head slowly at Harry’s explanation, although she still looked a little bit confused. Harry waited patiently, allowing her to soak the information in. After a moment Tohru’s face wiped clean except for the blinding smile she sent Harry.

“Ok,” she said, and then she looked behind her, as if sensing the impatient stares of her friends. “Oh, I have to go,” she whispered frantically.

“Oh, well . . . I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Harry muttered, a little downhearted. He had been hoping to spend some time with Tohru; he craved her presence if only for a little while. Tohru seemed to notice Harry’s change in mood and she smiled again.

“Would you like to come over and join us for dinner?”

“Oh . . . well, I wouldn’t want to be a burden,” Harry protested although his heart did lift at the thought of spending more time with his new found cousin. He wanted to curse his heart, because once again, without his consent he had begun to hope. It was only good luck that Tohru hadn’t disappointed him.

“No, no,” Tohru said, shaking her head. “It’s not trouble at all. And I’m sure Shigure-san wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t know,” Harry mumbled. “I kind of have to get back to the motel and —” Any further explanation he had been about to give her was cut off by Tohru frantic worrying.

“Oh no,” she said on a gasp. “You’re staying at a motel! No, no, you can’t do that.” She shook her head furiously then her face lit up as she let out an ‘Oh,’ on a gasp. Harry could practically see the imaginary light bulb shining over her head. “I’ll see if Shigure-san will allow you to house with us!”

“Oh no, Tohru,” Harry started to protest, trying to stop the girl as she turned away with a happy skip in her step. He sighed and shook his head, amusement bubbling up inside of him.

What had made him think that this girl would ever reject him? She was much too good, too pure, something Harry certainly wasn’t. Harry imagined that she was made of sugar and smiles, something every child craved in a companion, and in some ways Harry was a child.

“Harry-kun!”

Harry looked up, noting the sudden change from polite to informal in the way Tohru now addressed him. That simple gesture had him smiling and he walked over to join Tohru as she explained to her friends that Harry would be coming over for dinner.

“Oh!” the blonde Harry remembered was called Momiji, shouted, jumping up like a hyper rabbit. “Can we come over too? It’s been so long since I saw Gure and had some of your cooking, Tohru. Can we, please?”

“Oh, that would be great, maybe we could do barbeque,” Tohru said happily, and then she spun around, almost smacking Harry in the face with one of her braids. “Would you like barbeque Harry-kun?” Harry shrugged his shouldered and pushed his hair back behind his ear in one of his nervous gesture.

“Um . . . sure, that sounds fine.” The smile he aimed at her dropped a little when he noticed that she, actually all of them, were staring at him with shocked expressions. “W-what?”

“Is that an earring,” Momiji questioned loudly, pointing at Harry’s ear. Harry blinked before he remembered the act of rebellion he had participated in the summer he turned 17. He had simply walked out into the streets of London and into a piercing and tattoo parlor before walking back out sporting a new look, a pierced ear and a tattoo of a snake coiling around his bare forearm. Unconsciously, Harry lifted his hand to finger the dangling dragon on his ear.

“Um . . . yeah,” he answered hesitantly, and his voice seemed to shock everyone out of the stupor they had fallen into. Tohru blinked a few time before the smile that was quickly becoming familiar spread once again onto her thin lips.

“Oh . . . well come on, I have a lot to make tonight,” she announced. She then wrapped both of her arms around Harry’s right arm, only because he looked at a lost as of what to do with himself, and started to pull him away. “Bye, Uo-chan! Bye, Hana-chan,” she called to her two best friends as she, Harry, and the Sohmas walked away from the school. 

* * *

 

Tohru lived with Yuki, Kyo, and their older cousin, Shigure. Harry wanted to question on the relationship. Why were none of them living with their parents? But as they approached the house a new question popped into Harry’s head.

Why did they live in the middle of the forest?

They were so far into the forest, Harry wondered if anyone knew they were there. Only someone with something to hide lived in secluded areas. And Harry should know. He knew a lot of people who had something to hide, himself included.

But then again, Harry could be wrong. He remembered that Tohru had mention that this Shigure was a writer. He could simply be living in seclusion because he liked the quiet, or because it helped him write. Writers always had a weird way of thinking, and they could be extremely picky, especially when it came to their environment.

“Harry-kun, we’re here,” Tohru called, breaking through Harry’s thoughts. He blinked and looked over at the plain Japanese style house. It had two stories and a kind of porch that wrapped around the first level. From what he could see, the floors were wood and the doors were paper.

Completely and utterly normal, and unspectacular.

Not at all what Harry had been expecting for a house hidden in the woods.

“Idiot, Potter,” Harry muttered lowly to himself. “You’ve spent too much time around Purebloods.” Harry shook his head and then looked up, only to meet the red eyes of Kyo. He was staring at him with something akin to jealousy and some suspicion. Harry tilted his head to the side; silently asking ‘What?’ and Kyo shook his head and turned away. With a shrug Harry followed the group into the house.

“We’re home,” Yuki announced loudly. There was a loud bang followed by a low pitched ‘Ow,’ and then the door further down the hall slid aside and a dark-haired man poked his head out. He smiled at the group and when his eyes landed on Harry the smiled turned more curious.

“Hello,” he greeted, stepping out into the hallway and approaching them. Harry noted that he was wearing some sort of bathrobe thing. Was that something Japanese people wore in the house? “Who’s this?”

“Harrison Potter . . . I mean Potter, Harrison, sir,” Harry informed him and he watched with a slightly amused expression as the man’s eyebrows disappeared into his bangs, most likely because of his accent.

“Huh . . . well . . . I’m Sohma Shigure.”

“I know. It’s nice to meet you sir, and I’d like to add that you have a very nice home.” Shigure blinked and the others seemed startled by Harry’s formal speech, all except for Tohru who looked slightly amused, which was an oddity in itself.

“Well, thank you,” Shigure said after a moment, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“No problem.”

The group was silent for a moment before Tohru spoke up.

“Oh, I should start fixing dinner,” she announced.

“Oh, let me help you with that,” Harry volunteered as the girl moved to go up the stairs located to the right of them. Tohru shook her head, her brown hair flying wildly.

“No, no,” she declined. “You’re the guest. I can’t have the guest cooking for himself.”

“Are you sure,” Harry asked, still pushing. He wanted to do anything to help the girl who had so easily accepted him. Tohru threw him a blinding smile.

“Positive,” she said and then disappeared up the stairs before Harry could protest again. The teen sighed and shook his head.

“Well,” Yuki suddenly said, and when Harry turned he saw that all of the males, except maybe Haru and Shigure, were staring at him with an expression Harry dubbed as the ‘Big Brother Look.’ It almost made him want to laugh. Already he could guess at what the Sohmas might want to talk to him about.

“We should move into the living room,” Shigure suggested, looking like it was Easter, Christmas, and his birthday all at once.

Harry shrugged and followed the guys into the living room. He took the only single chair in the room that was ironically facing all of the other furniture. It was like some kind of interrogation.

“Alright, let’s get straight to the point,” Kyo hissed, and Harry notice that that was the first time Kyo had opened his mouth in his presence all day. His voice was deep and rough, quite unlike Haru’s slow monotone, or Momiji’s bubbly cheer, or even Yuki’s melodic voice. Kyo leaned forward from where he had chosen to sit next to Haru, his expression venomous and his red eyes promising death. Harry stared back calmly, not in the least bit intimidated.

“What do you want from Tohru,” Kyo demanded. Harry arched a brow, taking note of the informal way Kyo said Tohru’s name. It told him all he needed to know. The others in the room looked at Tohru as maybe a sister, or a ward, or in Momiji’s case, a one-sided crush. Kyo however, Harry could tell was in love with her. And he was in deep, very deep. Once again Harry had to control the urge to laugh. How wrong all of them were!

“What I want from Tohru isn’t really any of your business,” Harry replied calmly, going along with their assumptions.

“Like hell it isn’t,” Kyo growled.

“I really don’t think it is,” Harry stated coolly, again hiding his laughter. Shigure’s head was moving between them as if he were watching some intense tennis game and the others were staring at Harry with unveiled anger.

They though he wanted to use Tohru. What a laugh!

“Potter-san,” Yuki spoke up in a warning tone, holding his arm out over Kyo’s chest as if to hold him back. Harry regarded this curiously. Would Kyo actually attack him? A small smile crept up Harry’s face at the though. While he didn’t welcome bodily harm, it was good to know that someone was looking out for Tohru.

“Could you please cooperate with us?” Yuki asked politely, but Harry could see the steel in his eyes. Hard lavender stared over at him. And it was then that Harry noticed the slight tingling feeling in the back of his head. His eyes widened marginally before he schooled his features. He lifted his finger and tapped his chin thoughtfully, giving the allusion that he was thinking about Yuki’s request. But really he was thinking about his instincts.

They were telling him that something magical was there, in fact, something magical was all around. He hadn’t noticed before, as he had been outside, but the magical pull was coming from the Sohmas. Briefly he wondered if they were wizards, and then pushed that notion away. They were too Muggle to be wizards, and even if, they would have had to have broken the Statue of Secrecy if Tohru was living with them. There was no way that they could have hidden that with her sharing the same house as them. No way.

“Potter-san.”

Harry blinked confused before he remembered that they had been waiting for an answer. Kyo was coiled like an angry cat, looking like he wanted nothing more than to pounce of Harry.

“Okay,” Harry drawled, leaning back in the chair, the picture of ease. “I’ll cooperate.”

“Well,” Momiji demanded when Harry didn’t continue. Harry smirked and his eyes trailed over ever face. They all looked tense and uncomfortable, and Harry wondered if he was the reason behind the unease.

“What I want from Tohru is quite simple. I just want her to want me.” Harry knew that the way he phrased his answer would get a rise out of them. He was silently happy that Kyo didn’t disappoint. The teen leaned forward even more, practically out of his seat now, and he glared at Harry hatefully.

“Why you —” Harry held up his hand, hiding his amusement as he rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t done,” he said, letting a single chuckle slip through. “I don’t want Tohru to  _love_  me. That though in itself is kind of disturbing and I don’t particularly believe in interbreeding. I frankly can’t understand why some people do it. And another thing, Tohru isn’t my type. None of them are my type. They’re much too clingy and they talk too much and —” Harry knew he was rambling and so he cut off there, but he could tell that they were all confused. This was only further proven by Kyo’s unintelligible, “Huh?”

Harry rolled his eyes again.

“Let’s dumb this down okay.” He held up his hand, his index and middle finger extended to show the number two.

“There are two reasons why I don’t want Tohru to love,  _love_  me.”

“And they are,” Yuki prompted when Harry had paused for dramatic effect. Harry grinned then, a show of his teeth.

“One: I’m gay,” and here he got some weird looks, but he simply shrugged them off, “And two: Tohru is my  _cousin_.”

This was met by a deafening silence and Harry reclined once again in his chair, enjoying their disbelief. He could practically hear the click as the pieces fell into place.

“I . . . I thought that side of the family didn’t like Honda-san,” Yuki murmured lowly. A dark look flashed across Harry’s face and he was sure the Sohma’s noticed.

“No,” he told them. “They don’t.”

He paused then, his anger at the family’s treatment of one of their own evident on his face. His pupils seemed almost cat-like for a moment, sort of like Kyo’s own eyes whenever he got too angry, and it was a moment before he could speak again.

“In fact, neither side likes Tohru much, although I can’t see why. Tohru’s like a saint. She’s one of the purest people I’ve ever met.” The Sohma’s nodded in agreement, but Harry could see that his word had only proven to further confuse them. They did not know about Tohru’s mother’s side, because Kyoko had been disinherited the day she came back from the hospital. The same day in which Katsuya proposed to her, at least, that was what Oji-san had told Harry.

“Well . . . then which side? . . .” Shigure asked, not really needing to continue the question.

“My mum was her mother’s older sister.”

There was a beat of silence as they all stared at Harry in confusion, not sure if he was telling the truth.

“But her mother didn’t —” Momiji started to say but Harry had cut him off with a shake of his head.

“My mum was adopted, but not even she knew the truth,” he informed them. “I’m sure that if she had known, I would’ve met Tohru a lot sooner.” A wistful expression crossed his face as he thought about what that would have been like. And then he realized that Tohru would have been brought into danger had she had known him then and that idea frightened him. “But maybe it was a good thing that no one did know,” Harry muttered lowly to himself, a private aside.

Unbeknownst to him, the Sohma’s all heard him but they didn’t know what to make of his words.

“So, you just came here to meet Tohru,” Kyo asked skeptically. Harry shook his head, his hair flying around with the movement and his glasses becoming unhinged. He fixed his hair and readjusted his glasses before he answered more thoroughly.

“Not at all,” he spoke. “I didn’t even know about Tohru until last week. I came here looking for my grandparents.” Harry’s expression darkened once again as he thought of those people who were nothing like what he had expected parents to be. “Not the most courteous lot I have ever met. I can see why Aunty Kyoko went rebel.”

Harry sighed then and shook his head to clear it. For one fleeting second he had been almost glad not to have parents, and that frightened him. “I’m going to go and check on Tohru, see if she needs any help,” he suddenly announced and then he left the room, leaving the Sohmas in a state of confusion.

Harrison Potter was certainly an odd one, and enigma, an oddity among the oddities.


	2. Harry and the Sohmas

Tohru didn’t allow Harry to help her, and so he sat at the low table, Indian style, and watched her move about the kitchen. It was such an odd thing to see. For years Harry had cooked for himself, and the only person he had ever watched cook, had been Mrs. Weasley, but she had been a mom, and the act had seemed normal. With Tohru it was something different. Hermione had never been a cook, so Tohru was the first girl he had actually watched cook, and Fleur did not count.

“Tohru,” Harry called and the girl spun around, a skillet in hand and a smudge of flour on her cheek. Harry chuckled lowly at the image before he posed the question that had made him call out to her. “What was Aunty Kyoko like?” Tohru blinked a little, unfamiliar with the title Harry had given her mother, for the boy had used English. And then she smiled and turned back around to continue her cooking.

“Mom was . . . exciting. Did you know she used to be in a gang?” Harry nodded, but Tohru didn’t see him for her back was turned. “Yeah, Mom used to be called the Red Butterfly. It was said that when she rode her bike, all a person could see was her red tail lights streaking down the dark road.”

“So, she was well known,” Harry asked, leaning forward and resting his head in the cradle of his arms. He kept his gaze pinned on Tohru’s back, so that he saw when she nodded. “How did she manage to get out of the gang, and why did she?” Tohru’s brows pulled together as she thought this over and she bit the inside of her lip.

“I’m not quite sure. Once she told me that she had to fight tooth and nail for all of her freedoms, but I’m not quite sure what she meant.” Then Tohru sighed and paused to look out the window above the stove. “But I do know that when a gang member tries to leave their gang, most barely leave with their lives.”

“Why?”

“Because the gang tries to beat them to death,” Tohru told him morbidly with a small shake of her head. “That’s what happened to Uo-chan.”

“Arisa Uotani, right,” Harry asked and got a nod for conformation. “She was in a gang?”

“Yes. And Mom was her hero. That’s how we met. She had come to school wanting to meet the daughter of the Red Butterfly.” Tohru paused there and a chuckle escaped her lips. Harry laughed with her, already picturing the scene.

“I’m guessing you weren’t what she was expecting.”

“Nope,” Tohru said turning around to face Harry once more. “It was something like ‘Are you stupid, pick the —’” Tohru paused there, the mock scowl frozen on her face. “Oh and then something like ‘What the —?’” Tohru paused again, not sure how to continue and Harry laughed again. He could guess at the ending to that phrase.

“What happened?”

“Well I had bumped into her,” Tohru explained as she turned back around to start sharing out the food. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I was carrying a huge stack of papers for a teacher. I was trying to apologize for bumping into her when the papers suddenly fell all out onto the floor, and then people were stepping on them so I was trying to work fast to pick them up. And then Uo-chan suddenly yelled at this one boy. And then she starting helping me, and she was yelling at me too, something about me being really stupid or something.” Tohru chuckled and shook her head at the memory. “And then she asked me what my name was and when I told her she was like, ‘Do you want a bloody nose?’ And then I took her home to meet Mom.”

While Tohru told her story, Harry watched her in mild fascination. When Tohru spoke, her whole face lit up, and you could practically relive that moment with her. And Harry found himself quickly falling in love with his cousin. The girl was a diamond in the rough.

“So, how’d she react to Aunty Kyoko?”

“She yelled a lot and told Mom that she was disappointed that she had become a doting mother. At least, that’s what Mom told her.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” Harry admitted, lifting his head up and tilting it to the side. “How’d you guys become so close?”

“Oh, well after that I happened to bump into Uo-chan again, on the street,” Tohru told him. “And from then on we were always together.” Harry looked confused for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders. If he really wanted to know all the details he’d ask some other time, for at that moment Tohru had called the other guys in for dinner. 

* * *

 

Dinner started off very quiet, and Harry felt that it was all his fault. If he wasn’t there the atmosphere probably wouldn’t have been so tense.

“So . . . Potter-san, how long have you been in Japan,” Shigure asked after a long stretch of strained silence. Harry looked away from his plate, which he had been pondering rather than eating, and over at Shigure.

“Hum? Oh, right. About two weeks,” Harry answered in a distracted tone.

“Oh? And are you and your parents enjoying it,” Shigure asked, completely missing the warning looks the other teens in the room were sending him. Harry however didn’t seem all that bothered by the question. He lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug and said, calmly, “My parents can’t exactly enjoy it seeing as they’re buried in a grave about a thousand miles from here.”

A look of horror flashed across Tohru’s face at Harry’s candid attitude. Shigure expression flashed from startled to slightly abashed and then to apologetic.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he told Harry in condolence and the dark haired teen shrugged again, turning his attention back to his food.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve gotten over it.”

The group fell into silence yet again, and after a minute Harry sighed and pushed away his food.

“Is something wrong,” Tohru asked, concern lacing her voice. Harry turned and gave her a reassuring smile.

“I’m fine, I’m just not very hungry,” he told her before turning and walking out of the room. No one tried to stop him; in fact, they had sort of been waiting for him to leave so that they could discuss him.

“I don’t like that guy,” Kyo muttered with a frown.

“That’s a surprise,” Yuki commented dryly, rolling his eyes. Tohru looked between the two with an anxious expression. Kyo bristled at Yuki’s words a looked like he wanted nothing more than to lunge over the table and beat the calm teen’s face in.

“Tohru-kun,” Shigure called drawing the girl’s attention away from the two rivals. “Do you trust him?”

“Well,” Tohru said, shifting in her seat nervously. “He said he’s my cousin on Mom’s side, and he looks really lonely.” Shigure nodded as if Tohru’s answer had cleared something up for him.

“But,” Momiji spoke up, a frown taking over his features and making him look more like the fifteen/sixteen-year-old that he was. “Why would he lie?”

“I don’t think he’s lying,” Haru said rather bluntly. When the others looked at him in confusion he shrugged. “He doesn’t seem like he would lie to anyone. And besides, why would he come all the way from Britain or wherever to try and screw Honda-san over?”

Shigure looked thoughtful before nodding his head.

“You’re right,” he said after a moment. “But if it helps we’ll just look him up, hmm? . . .” The Sohma’s looked to be in agreement but Tohru looked disapprovingly. She, however, didn’t say anything. Whatever made her caretakers feel more secure she would allow, but that didn’t mean she didn’t trust Harry. 

* * *

 

Harry didn’t impose of the Sohma’s any longer. He simply walked out of the house and kept walking. He knew they didn’t trust him, and he could understand. After all, how would they be able to believe him if not even Tohru knew about her mother’s side of the family. So, Harry would allow them to talk it over and he would give them their space, even though he wanted nothing more than to spend every waking moment in his new found cousin’s presence.

Harry roamed his new town at night, taking in the nice calm of the suburbs and then the hustle and bustle of the city. Once in the city he ducked into an alley and pulled out a miniature model of Sirius’s motorcycle. He enlarged it before speeding out and into the city. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity he found himself smiling and actually enjoying himself. The last time he felt this way had been after he had broken out of Gringotts on the back of a blind dragon. That had been so long ago.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Harry turned into the motel he was staying at. 

* * *

 

“Whoa, new boy’s your cousin? On Kyoko’s side? Are you serious,” Arisa demanded the next day when Tohru had pulled her and Saki aside to talk in private. Tohru nodded meekly a small, shy smile taking over her face. Arisa blinked owlishly, her mouth dropping open in shock and beside her Saki stared in an unnerving way.

“I see,” Saki finally said after a moment of strained silence.

“You  _see_?” Arisa asked incrudiously, turning to look dumbstruck at her dark-haired friend. Saki closed her eyes as she nodded her head and then opened them again to pin Arisa with a blank stare. After another moment of thinking it over, Arisa’s shoulders relaxed and a thoughtful expression flitted across her face.

“Okay,” she said slowly and then she repeated it again with more conviction. “Okay. Right . . . well then.” And then she took a deep breath, her chest puffing up a bit before she let it out in a gust and shot Tohru a cocky smirk. “Well, why don’t we go and find Kyoko’s long-lost nephew then,” she suggested in a slightly superior tone. “It’s time for his initiation.” Saki smiled at this and nodded her head again, like she had been considering the same thing. Tohru looked between her two friends in complete confusion.

“Initiation,” she asked, not completely understanding what her blonde friend meant. Arisa simply nodded before hooking her arm through Saki’s and dragging the girl away. Tohru blinked, staring after them, not knowing what had just happened. 

* * *

 

Arisa and Saki found Harry walking aimlessly toward the track field, hands stuffed casually into his pockets, and they quickly approached him.

“Oi, Potter!”

Harry turned around so fast the move was almost nonexistent, and his eyes were wide and alert as the scanned the area. Arisa saw his hand inch toward his pocket but quickly move away when he recognized them.

“Oh, hey,” Harry called over to them in a calm tone as if to placate them, but Arisa was already suspicious. Why had he looked so panicked, and what had he been reaching for? “Can I help you ladies,” Harry asked politely, attracting Arisa’s full attention and tilting his head a little.

“Yeah, you can,” Arisa snapped harshly and then demanded, “What’s this crap about you being Tohru’s cousin?” She even went so far as to poke Harry in the chest. Harry looked from Arisa to Saki in confusion before he answered.

“It’s just that,” he said this slowly, as if he was talking to a child that didn’t understand something, and that did nothing to stoke Arisa’s anger. She poked him once more in the chest before saying, “I don’t believe you.”

Harry didn’t look the least bit surprised by Arisa’s declaration and that only made the former gang-girl more suspicious.

“Okay,” he said, drawing the word out as he nodded his head.

“Don’t you want to know why?” Arisa then asked skeptically after a moment of tense silence. For some odd reason, Harry’s nonchalant manner unnerved her. Harry blinked at her for a moment before lifting his shoulders and letting them drop in the universal sign of a shrug.

“There’s no point in me asking if I already know.”

“Really?” This received another shrug.

“Really.” And then Harry sighed and stuffed his hands casually into his pockets. “Look, I understand. You don’t trust me because I can’t prove it. It’s not like you can go and ask Aunty Kyoko because she’s dead and even if she wasn’t dead she wouldn’t know because she was born after my mother was given up. You can’t ask my mother because she’s dead and even if she wasn’t she wouldn’t know because she was too young when it happened. You can’t ask my mother’s adoptive parents because they are both dead as well. And you can’t ask my mother’s birth parents because they would outright deny it,” he explained empathetically, almost sounding as if he were reciting the words. “To you this all seems rather convenient. What are the odds that the majority of my family is dead and the only ones alive would deny my existence? How can you possible find out if I’m telling you the truth or not? And the answer is that you can’t and therefore you don’t trust me.”

There was another strained silence after Harry’s small monologue in which Arisa simply stared at him in awe, her mouth hanging slightly open.

“I see you’ve thought this through,” Saki commented lightly, her voice still its soft monotone. Harry gave a jerky nodded of his head.

“I’ve had to,” he replied stiffly. “I know that’s I’ll have to earn your trust, just know that you’ll have to earn mine also.”

“And do you trust Tohru,” Saki asked and the way she asked the question made Harry wonder if there was some deeper meaning behind her words.

“I trust no one, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think Tohru is someone I can trust,” he told her cryptically. Saki nodded in understanding and Harry felt that she truly did understand. Arisa looked between the two of them in confusion but neither teen explained the meaning behind their words. And before she could even think of something to say the warning bell rang.

“I believe we should be heading to class,” Harry said and then the trio turned and walked back into the school building. 

* * *

 

“Harry-kun —” Whatever Tohru had been about to say was cut off when Harry held up his hand. She paused and smiled slightly when, like always, Harry shot her an apologetic smile and then explained his reason for cutting her off.

“Sorry, but I really insist that you call me just Harry. I tend to have an aversion to any type of title.” Tohru hesitated, not really sure if she was on good enough terms to call Harry by an impolite name. Harry could see the hesitance in her and he conceded. “. . . Or you could call me Harrison, if you wish. That’s more formal.”

“Okay,” Tohru finally agreed, looking more relieved. She then shifted her bag on her shoulder and Harry tilted his head as he waited for her to talk.

“You were saying,” he said after a minute of content silence.

“Oh,” Tohru exclaimed, her face turning a dark red in her embarrassment. “I talked to Shigure-san,” she told him after she had calmed down a bit. “He agreed to let you stay.” Harry found the excitement pouring off of Tohru to be very much contagious and he soon found himself grinning along with her.

“That’s great. I suppose I can check out of that motel now,” he told her with a chuckle. Tohru nodded her head seriously, shifting her bag once more and this time Harry noticed. “Um . . . where are you going?”

“Oh, I have work today,” she informed him, her gaze sliding to a clock a little bit away down the hallway. “Oh no! I’m going to be late!” Tohru then slid her gaze back to Harry and offered him a hasty goodbye. Then, in a swish of her long brown hair, Tohru was speeding down the hallway. Harry watched her go with a shake of his head and an amused chuckle. 

* * *

 

Harry walked to Shigure’s house alone with his minimal amount of stuff. He already had the route memorized and the only reason he was walking alone was because he didn’t know the house number and didn’t own a cell phone, something he seriously should invest in sometime soon; as a precaution of course.

As he walked, Harry found his thoughts flitting over to his cousin, something it was likely to do these past two days.

She was such a ray of sunshine, something he desperately needed at the moment in his rather dreary and depressing life. But she was also so blindingly innocent, something Harry could never claim to be, that some would call her air-headed. And that meant that she needed protection. She seemed amusingly like the gullible traveler Harry had once read about in primary school. And so Harry could fully understand the Sohma’s and Saki and Arisa’s reasoning for not trusting him, because Tohru would, even if he really were a conman like they had falsely assumed.

Harry chuckled lightly at the thought that he could possibly be a conman, and shook his head as he finally cleared to forest. He took a moment to observe the house, with its subtly homey feeling. He had never imagined that he would one day find himself living in a traditional Japanese style home, and now that he knew what to look for, he could sense the magic in the air. It left a sort of syrupy taste on his tongue, like the lingering taste of squash concentrate.

“Potter-san?”

Harry jumped a little and spun around quickly, twitching his arm a little bit as his eyes jumped around his surroundings. When he spotted Yuki standing a little ways from him, he sighed and then shook his head, amused at his reaction. All of Moody’s ‘Constant vigilance’ nonsense had made him as paranoid as the man himself.

“Hey,” Harry called back casually, stuffing his hand into his pocket. “Sorry for dropping by like this but I didn’t have the number.” Harry waited a bit as he watched understanding light inside of Yuki’s lavender eyes.

“Oh, right,” Yuki said smoothly after a second as if trying to regain some of the composure he had lost. “Well, Honda-san is at work right now so I guess I could show you around.” Harry smiled and thanked him before following the teen into the house.

“I’m home,” Yuki announced loudly as he slipped out of his shoes and then to Harry he said, “I had a student council meeting.”

“Student Council,” Harry intoned, not quite familiar with the term.

“Yes, I’m the president.” This was said a bit reluctantly and with an incrudious look, like Yuki couldn’t believe that anyone would make him president of anything. Harry didn’t bother to deny it, for he didn’t know what kind of things Yuki was capable of.

“Oh, that sounds . . .” Harry trailed off; not wanting to insult Yuki by saying it sounded boring but not wanting to think he understood by saying it sounded cool. Yuki simply offered him a fake smile and shrugged.

“I know. I just wanted to do something for myself for once.”

Harry blinked, not completely understanding where that bit of information came from, but Yuki didn’t seem to notice nor did he seem to want to expand on his words. “Right, well . . . you know I have no idea where we’re gonna be able to put you.”

“I knew I would be a burden,” Harry said with a shake of his head.

“Oh no, don’t worry about it.” Yuki told him with another fake smile. Harry wondered vaguely why the boy even bothered to smile if they were all faked but found that it would have been rude of him to ask, and a bit hypocritical, and so he kept that question to himself for a later date. “You’re Honda-san’s cousin and she wants you to stay here,” Yuki continued to say and Harry nodded slowly as he followed Yuki further into the house.

“So, um, why does Tohru live here anyway? I mean, Oji-san said something about her not being happy at his place but I still don’t quite understand.”

“Oh, well, a while back we found Tohru camping out on the property and so we offered her our home,” Yuki explained but Harry didn’t believe that was the whole story. After all, what stranger just offered a person board in their home?

“I see,” Harry said instead of voicing his suspicions. “Why was she camping out in the first place?”

“Something about her grandfather renovating his house.”

Harry nodded his head and said no more on the subject. If they wanted him to know, they’d tell him. If not it was only a matter of time before he found out what they were hiding.

“I guess you can have Shigure’s room,” Yuki muttered absently after a while, breaking Harry out of his thoughts.

“Then were will he sleep,” Harry asked. “You know, I don’t mind staying in the living room or something. It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve had to.” Yuki was shaking his head before Harry could even finish.

“No, no, Honda-san would be displeased if you did.” He then turned to look at Harry curiously. “You know, I can see how you two are related. She offered to do the same when Kyo came back.”

“Oh,” Harry said softly although he was wondering why Yuki had spoken Kyo’s name with such venom. Did the two not like each other? Why? But he put these questions away for another day, also.

“Anyway, I don’t think Shigure would mind anyways. He is the one that agreed to this arrangement. He’ll just have to stay in his office.” The way Yuki spoke of Shigure was like he was talking about a dog that had thoroughly displeased him.

“Are you sure,” Harry asked. He didn’t really like the idea of putting someone out, especially in their own home.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Yuki told him absently. “But it might take a while to clean out that mess.” While Yuki continued to talk to himself, Harry looked around. They had ended up in the living room. Just outside of the shoji doors, Harry spotted Kyo. He was doing some sort of karate moves out in the yard.

As if he felt him watching, Kyo paused at turned to look at Harry.

“ _Oi_ , what are  _you_  doing here!”

Harry opened his mouth to explain when he heard Yuki sigh from beside him.

“Honestly, do you ever listen,” the grey haired teen asked rhetorically. “Honda-san told us earlier that Shigure invited Potter-san to stay.” Harry saw Kyo visible bristle, and who could blame him. The way Yuki spoke it was as if he were talking to an inferior being.

“Well how the hell was I supposed to know!”

“I just told you,” Yuki spoke calmly, not at all fazed by Kyo’s unbridling anger, and he folded his arms across his chest. “You’re just too stupid not to listen.”

“That’s it rat boy, do you want to go,” Kyo yelled, balling his hands into fist and raising them like a boxer.

“I don’t have time to deal with you. Why don’t you go and find someone else to annoy.” And then Yuki turned his back on Kyo, which only proved to infuriate the boy further. He gritted his teeth before running at Yuki in a full charge.

“That’s it!” Kyo pulled back his fist, prepared to strike, but Yuki slid to the side. Kyo stumbled, losing balance when his attack did not meet and before he had a chance to regain his footing, Yuki moved fluidly to the side, and delivered a roundhouse kick to the face. The momentum threw Kyo out into the door, breaking it off of its hinges and he landed in the yard on his back.

“When will you learn,” Yuki said coldly.

“Boys, are you destroying my house again?” Shigure’s voice drifted into the room and then said man appeared inside the room. He looked around, taking in the broken door and then Harry’s shocked expression before he sighed. “Not again.”

“I’m guessing this happens often,” Harry commented mildly after a minute when the initial shock wore off.

“It wouldn’t happen a lot if the idiot wouldn’t keep attacking me,” Yuki told them matter-of-factly and then he turned and leveled Shigure with a long look, as if something the man did displeased him. “Potter-san is taking your room.” With that said he exited the room.

“Um . . . am I missing something here,” Harry asked looking from the door Yuki had just departed through to Kyo, who was still laying in the yard.

“Hmm, well, you could say Yuki and Kyo have a certain animosity,” Shigure told him with another sigh, the pout he had put on after Yuki’s words disappearing into a mischievous smile. “Kyo’s always starting a fight. It’s just a shame that he’s never won any.” Shigure’s words seemed to joust Kyo from his stupor and he shot up.

“Shut up! I will beat him,” Kyo shouted and then took off into the forest.

“Well, this should certainly be interesting,” Shigure commented lightly and Harry found himself agreeing wholeheartedly. 

* * *

 

_I watched immobilized by a force not my own as the pasty faced man raised his wand. I knew what was going to happen before it did. And yet I couldn’t believe my eyes or ears when Snape whispered those tabooed words._

“Avada Kedavra.”

_I wanted to scream, to yell, to kick and carry on until my throat hurt but my voice was blocked and I couldn’t speak, or yell, or shout like I wanted to._

_I watched as if in a dream, or a nightmare, as the green light stuck the old man it had been aimed out. Dumbledore’s body toppled back and he was thrown into the air, spread eagle-like as if he were about to take off, and then he fell out of sight. The spell lifted off of my body, but I remained frozen as the five Death Eaters ran out of the tower._

_In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to cry bawling tears that would never stop, to throw a tantrum, to break something, to_ do _anything. I wanted to curse Snape; I wanted to torture the man who dared to kill Dumbledore. I wanted to hurt him so much; hurt him until he begged for death himself. Such hatred filled me that I thought I would go mad with it._

_And so I did the only thing that made since to me. I chased Snape down, not caring about the others fighting around me. They did not register in my mind. All that mattered was Snape and causing him as much pain as possible._

“Stupefy!” _The jinx I shot missed, whizzing past Snape’s head. Snape pushed the boy beside him roughly in the shoulder._

_“Run, Draco,” he commanded before turning to face me._

“Cruc —” _My desperate attempt to curse was easily swatted away. I tried again but again, it was blocked._

_“No Unforgivable Curses from you, Potter!” Snape yelled, taunting me. “You haven’t got the nerve or the ability —” It worked. My already boiling anger grew hotter, rising up until it felt like I would erupt like a volcano._

_He had killed Dumbledore!_

“Incarc —” _Another deflect. I was getting sick of this._

_“Fight back!” I yelled. “Fight back, you cowardly —”_

_“Cowardly, did you call me, Potter,” Snape shouted. “Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?”_

“Stupe —”

_“Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!” Deflecting my spell once more, he then turned and yelled to the other Death Eaters. I used the moment to try again._

“Impedi —”

_Then pain erupted in my body. I felt as if I had been set on fire._

_“No,” Snape roared and the pain was gone. I got blindly to my feet and wildly casted another curse._

“Sectum —” _Deflected. I tried mentally._ ‘Levi —’

_“No Potter!” Another deflect. I couldn’t even land one damn spell. Snape’s next deflect threw me onto my back and then he was hovering over me. “You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented then — I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you’d turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don’t think so . . . no!” I had dived for my wand but Snape blasted it even further away from me._

_“Kill me then,” I panted. “Kill me like you killed him, you coward —”_

_“DON’T —” he screamed. “CALL ME COWARD!”_

_His next hex hit me square in the chest and one blind moment I thought he really did kill me. But of course he didn’t. That would have been too easy, too simply._

_Instead Snape ran, left me to wallow in endless despair. And I went back, went back to the tower and Dumbledore’s broken body. And then it seemed like everything ended._

_It was over._

_There was no hope, no winning._

_Everything was lost._  

* * *

 

“Harrison!”

Harry shot up, drawn out of his nightmare by the call of his name, only for his head to collide painfully with someone else’s. He moaned and rolled over, clutching his forehead in pain as stars erupted behind his closed eyelids.

“ _Ita_ ~” Tohru’s soft voice washed over him like a cooling salve and he blinked against the pain to look over at the girl who was rubbing her head also.

“Tohru,” Harry called, his voice horse. He blinked again before his mind connected the pieces and he realized what had happened. “Oh, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” Harry scrambled off the bed and dropped down on his knees next to Tohru, who smiled up at him sheepishly.

“I’m fine,” she told him, even though Harry could plainly see the red bump that was forming on her head. She laughed airily before her expression turned into one of concerned. "Are  _you_ alright Harrison?”

Harry blinked, having not expecting that question. It was then that he noticed the tears that were running down his cheek. He hastily wiped them away, and shook off his most recent nightmare. The memory was vivid in his mind before he pushed it back.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he told her when the words were a little bit truer.

“Are you sure,” Tohru pushed. Harry smiled and nodded his head, regretting it a moment later when his head started to pound.

“Yeah, it’s nothing.”

Harry was lying through his teeth and he felt bad for lying to Tohru, but he couldn’t explain, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t want Tohru to be haunted by his demons, he’d rather lie and keep her pure than tell her.

“Okay,” Tohru conceded reluctantly. “Well, breakfast is ready.”

“Thanks, I’ll be down in a minute and then I’m gonna go out for a bit.”

Tohru nodded then turned to leave. Once she was gone Harry heaved a heavy sigh.

The week was finally coming to a close and the initial glowing relief Harry had come to associate with Tohru’s presence was dwindling. He had grown too used to it. The first few days, the feeling that came with finding his cousin had clouded over his nightmares and he had none. And then they had started coming back slowly, but those nightmares had been practically harmless. He wasn’t that affected by the dead faces of the many unnamed people who had appeared in them. But this one was brutal. The scene of Dumbledore being killed was always like a stab in the back. He never though the man  _could_  die. And then he did.

Harry sighed again and shook head. He needed to get ready before Tohru came back to check on him. 

* * *

 

“Honda-san, are you okay,” Yuki asked as he and the other two Sohmas sat at the table for lunch later on that day. Tohru blinked, shaken from her thoughts.

“Huh,” she hummed, looking over at the grey-haired teen.

“Is everything alright,” he asked again, worried about the vague expression on the normally expressive girl’s face. Tohru sighed uncharacteristically and pushed away her barely touched food, another uncharacteristic move.

“I’m worried about Harrison,” she admitted to the three Sohmas, biting down on her lip.

“Oh, yes, he is a bit worrisome,” Shigure imputed, leaning back and patting his slightly bulging stomach in satisfaction. And then he frowned thoughtfully. “Was he having another nightmare?”

“I think so,” Tohru mumbled. “I just wished he’d talk about it.”

“Is it that bad,” Kyo asked, not really caring that much about Harry but not liking that Tohru was worried. Tohru shifted, not sure if she should share Harry’s personal information.

“I think so. He just always looks so . . . spooked”" Tohru turned to look wide-eyed at the three, showing just how shocked she was to see the scared look on Harry’s face.

“You know,” Yuki started slowly. “I . . . I have this feeling that he’s hiding something.”

“Everyone’s hiding something,” Shigure told him wisely.

“But it’s not like a normal kind of something,” Kyo spoke up, for the first time on the same wavelength as Yuki. “It seems like something bigger than normal.” Kyo sighed when he saw the skeptical look on Shigure’s face. “Look, has any of you seen his scar?” He looked around the table at all of them.

“Everyone’s seen his scar, it’s on his forehead,” Shigure told him in a tone that sounded belittling, as if he were talking to a child.

“I’m not talking about the one on his forehead,” Kyo growled, his face turning red as he glared at Shigure. “I’m talking about the one on his hand,” he grounded out between his teeth.

“He has a scar on his hand,” Tohru repeated looking clearly shocked. Kyo looked over at her before settling down and explaining.

“Yeah, it looked like words so I looked it up,” he told them. “And from what I translated it said something like: I must not tell lies.” Tohru gasped and her hands flew up to her mouth. A look of horror flashed across her face.

“That’s horrible. Who would do that,” she whispered, and she certainly sounded horrified.

“Well, that certainly doesn’t sound normal,” Yuki muttered, looking over at Kyo as if he was seeing him in a whole new light. “I’m shock, who’d have thought you’d notice something like that?”

Kyo growled at him, balling his hands up into his fist.

“Well Tohru-kun,” Shigure said as Yuki and Kyo began arguing. “I must say, you’re cousin sure is an enigma.” 

* * *

 

Harry sighed as he peered down at the slick stone before him. The name Kyoko Honda carved elegantly in it brought about a wave of longing. How he wished he could have met the woman once known as the Red Butterfly. He was sure it would have been a good experience. The phrase ‘Why must the good die young?’ passed through his head and it almost brought tears to his eyes.

_Thirty years_ , he thought bitterly.  _All she had was thirty years._  Harry was only happy that Kyoko at least got a chance to live longer than Lily. But that still didn’t really help.

Harry sat down heavily on the hard and cold ground, and he rested his head against the cool stone tomb. For the first time in a long time he let the depression eat at him. He let it consume him, take him under. He allowed himself to drown in it, to ride the wave of depression and anguish and loss.

He allowed the visions of his past to take over him. The many faces flashed across his eyes. The old, the young, the innocent, the guilty, the powerful, the weak, the rich, the poor, the known, and the unknown, they all slid by like a passing sign on the television. And Harry felt what he had felt then. The guilt was immense, and overpowering. Even now, when he logically knew some of them didn’t deserve his guilt, he still felt like he owed them. They were dead because of him. He led them to battle and he failed to save their lives. No matter if they turned on him, or ridiculed him, or slandered his name, he knew none of them deserved to die, or watched their loved ones die.

No one deserved that.

No one.

“Harrison,” someone called out and Harry’s head snapped up, causing it to slam into the stone. Harry groaned and rubbed his twice bruised head before he turned around to see the mysterious figure of Saki Hanajima. She was clothed, like always, in a long black dress, and the wind whipped her dark hair around her face, giving into the girl’s air of mystery.

“Oh, hi, Saki,” Harry greeted, plastering a fake smile onto his face. Saki didn’t look the least bit fooled. She stared at him with unblinking eyes, reminding Harry forcibly of one Luna Lovegood. “Um . . . what are you doing here?”

“I felt your waves. You seem rather depressed. I was curious as to why,” Saki commented rather bluntly.

“Oh . . . um . . . okay,” Harry said, not really knowing how to respond to that.

“Would you care to talk about it,” Saki asked, folding her skirt under her and sitting down beside Harry. Harry shifted to a more comfortable position but wasn’t ready to talk to Tohru’s best friend.

If he couldn’t tell his own cousin, then he defiantly couldn’t tell a girl he barely knew. Saki nodded her head as if she knew what Harry had been thinking.

“Okay, that’s fine. But you should talk to Tohru,” she told him before standing once again. Harry watched her go with a slightly amused expression.

Yes, she reminded him exactly of Luna Lovegood. 

* * *

 

Harry didn’t listen to Saki’s advice despite how reasonable it sounded, and Tohru didn’t try to pry information out of him like she desperately wanted to. And as the days passed Harry grew more withdrawn, pushing Tohru away before she could get close, and no one knew what to do about him.

Tohru was clearing up the table after breakfast when it happened. Kyo had walked up behind her just as she turned around and the two crashed into each other. There was a bang and a puff of smoke and then Tohru was on the floor, looking disheveled and apologizing profoundly to an orange cat.

“Forget about it,” the cat told her in Kyo’s voice. “It’s no problem.”

But he soon swallowed his own words when the door opened and in stepped Harry. He looked around the room blankly for a minute before he offered the two a smile, one they could tell was faked for it did nothing to lift the dark look in his green eyes.

“Hey Tohru,” he greeted softly before looking down at the cat. “And Kyo,” he added not looking the least bit surprised to find that the teen had transformed into a cat. He then walked over to the fridge, got out a bottle of water, and then walked right back out of the room.

“Um . . . what just happened,” Kyo asked, clearly confused. And then Harry walked back into the room, looking a little confused.

“Hum . . . you can talk?” And then he shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him. “That’s a new one,” he commented nonchalantly.

Kyo gapped at him, his mouth hanging open to show his small sharp teeth. And then, at that very moment, he transformed back in another puff of smoke, completely naked. Harry’s eyebrows rose, disappearing into his bangs as he appraised Kyo lean body.

“And that’s another new one,” he commented lightly as Tohru squeaked and turned away. Kyo turned a dark shade of red, and scrambled to pull on his clothes, for Harry was still staring, unabashedly, at him.

“Um . . .” Kyo shifted nervously as a guilty feeling twisting inside his gut. It was always him that revealed the family secret.

“Oh, Tohru-kun,” Shigure’s voice rang out in a sing-song tone before said man appeared, walking calmly into the room. He took one look at Kyo’s tense form and Tohru’s panicked expression, before he said, “I’ll go call Akito,” on a sigh. Harry cocked his head to the side and asked, “Who?”

“Akito is the head of the Sohma family. Since you now know our secret I’ve got to inform him.” Harry nodded his understanding. It was perfectly reasonable and he knew he would have to do the same if his secret ever came out.

“Okay, I get it.” Shigure smiled tensely before walking out into the hallway to call Akito.

“Well this is just great,” Yuki’s smooth voice cut into the silence that had fallen. He gaze was cold and hard as he looked at Kyo from where he leaned on the door frame. “Looks like you’ve done it again you stupid cat.”

“I didn’t  _do_  anything,” Kyo yelled, balling his hands into fist and glaring heatedly at Yuki.

“You know,” Harry cut in before the two could start fighting. “If it’s any condolence, I already knew you had something to hide. By living with you it was only a matter of time before I figured it out.” The two Sohmas stared at him and he shrugged. “So, anyone want to tell me exactly  _what_  your secret is?”

“Wait, so you don’t know,” Kyo asked skeptically and when Harry answered in the negative he said, “Then why weren’t you surprised when you saw me?” Harry shrugged for the third time.

“I’ve seen a lot of things. A guy turning into a cat is  _not_  something new.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” Kyo demanded.

“Ask no questions and I’ll tell no lies,” Harry told him vaguely, only proving to infuriate him more. He sent the teen a surly smile that had Kyo blushing and looking away. “So? . . .”

Yuki sighed and motioned for Harry to sit before he took a seat himself.

“Okay, so the Sohma family has been curse for . . . well we don’t exactly know how long. Let’s just say a very long time. We were cursed with the Chinese Zodiac, are you familiar with it?” Harry shook his head, looking a bit sheepish. Yuki sighed again, this time in exasperation.

“Well, the story is that once a long time ago, God held a banquet. He invited all the animals and told them not to be late. The rat then decided to play a trick on his neighbor the cat. He told the cat that the banquet was the next day and while the cat slept the rat and the other animals went to the banquet.

“Our family is curse with these animals. For whatever reason, whenever we are stressed or hug by someone of the opposite sex that’s not afflicted with the curse, we transform into our respective zodiac animal.”

“Okay, and how many animals are there,” Harry asked curiously.

“Well there are twelve zodiac animals and then the cat.” Kyo hissed and Harry turned to look at him with an amused expression, which was a surprise for those in the room. It had been a while since Harry showed any emotion that wasn’t faked.

“You know, I always thought you acted like a cat.” And then he turned to look at Yuki. “And you must be the rat with the way you guys argue. And Shigure seems . . . dog-like.”

“You’re taking this rather well,” Shigure commented from the doorway.

“Hum,” Harry said. “So, what did your head say?”

Shigure didn’t answer and he avoided Harry’s gaze. Harry didn’t know what that meant but the others did, if Tohru’s gasp was any indicator. “Hum . . . should I be worried.”

“Akito said no, didn’t he,” Yuki asked softly, ignoring Harry’s joking question. Shigure nodded his head slowly with a sort of resigned expression.

“He’s going to erase Harrison’s memory,” Tohru asked softly and Shigure nodded again.

“He’s gonna do what,” Harry asked, arching a brow. When they didn’t answer he sighed. “Fine, whatever, not like it’s gonna work.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry looked over at Yuki.

“If I tell you I’ll have to erase your memories,” he commented sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. His attempt at humor did not help the tense situation. “Okay, there’s got to be more to this if you guys are this tense.”

“Well, Akito isn’t known for his kindness,” Yuki said in a small voice.

“Uh-huh, and you think he can hurt me,” he asked and then he had to laugh when they didn’t answer him. “Wow, well I suppose you would think that. None of you even know who I am,” and without giving any meaning behind his response he left room.

“He’s . . . weird,” Kyo said. 

* * *

 

“You really are an idiot,” Yuki hissed as he came upon Kyo on the roof. Kyo bristled and whirled around to glare at his cousin.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Tell me something,” Yuki said lowly, not the least bit phased by Kyo’s yelling. “What would you have done if Akito ordered Hatori to erase Honda-san’s memories along with her cousin’s?” Kyo opened his mouth to yell some retort when Yuki’s words finally penetrated through his angry haze. He paled at the thought of Tohru having to forget him.

“Exactly,” Yuki hissed again. “So next time, I suggest you be more careful.” Yuki then turned to leave but not before saying, “By the way, Honda-san says dinner is ready.”

Kyo gapped after him for a minute before he regained in his senses and headed down the ladder. He walked in through the living room just in time to hear a car pull up in front of the house.

“Hatori’s here,” Shigure announced sullenly. Tohru jumped a little and turned around, her eyes rimmed red, evidence to the fact that she had been crying.

“Who’s Hatori,” Harry asked, looking away from the TV, where he had been surfing the channels. He, unlike the others, was completely calm. They all wondered if he could honestly believe that he would be able to retain his memories.

“Another cousin,” Shigure answered shortly.

“Ah, another curse member, huh? I’m gonna take a wild guess and say he’s the one whose supposedly gonna erase my memories.” This was said with a roll of his eyes and a cocky smirk on his thin lips, something that made Shigure shake his head at the teen’s gall.

There was a knock at the door and Tohru went to answer it, returning minutes later with a tall dark-haired man. Harry scrutinized him, taking in his lean build, hazel eyes, and stoic expression.

“Are all Sohma’s hot,” Harry then asked getting squeamish looks from Kyo and Yuki. He shot them both a grin, enjoying the fact that his homosexuality was making them uncomfortable.

“I take it you’re Harrison Potter,” Hatori asked in a deep and bored-sounding voice.

“Harry,” Harry told him. “And yes, I am. I take it you’re Hatori Sohma?”

“Yes.”

“Great, now let’s get this ridiculous ordeal over with and move on with our lives.” Hatori arched a brow and Harry smirked cockily. He was enjoying toying with the Sohmas. He could now understand why the Slytherins did it all the time.

“If you insist,” Hatori said.

“Yes, I’d very much like to get this over with before dinner.”

Hatori shot Shigure a questioning look but all he got in return was a shrug. Harry rolled his eyes then walked past both men, giving Hatori no choice but to follow him. He led the man to Shigure’s office, which was doubling as the dog’s room and sat down on the futon, crossing his arms and legs.

“Well?”

Hatori sighed; feeling extremely tired all of a sudden. He never liked having to erase people’s memories, being forced to take away something people thoroughly treasured. He kneeled down in front of the glasses wearing teen. He instructed Harry to remove his glasses and the teen did.

“This won’t hurt a bit,” he said as he placed his hand over Harry’s eyes. Harry chuckled darkly, finding the statement ironic.

“Last time someone said that to me, it did hurt,” he told Hatori. Hatori didn’t bother replying, he was too baffled to do so. He’d already used his powers. Harry should have fainted or something, but nothing happened. “Are you done yet?” Hatori pulled his hand away, and stared at Harry with a shocked expression.

“What  _are_  you,” he asked, and although he was shocked it didn’t show in his voice.

“Now that’s just rude,” Harry said. “Are you trying to say I’m not human?”

“I . . .”

“ _I’m_  hungry,” Harry announced as he stood up, leaving Hatori utterly confused. He smiled sweetly at the man and walked out of the room. Hatori followed after him in a daze and when he passed Shigure he had this to say. “That boy is not normal.” 

* * *

 

For the first time in weeks Harry felt elated. It probably had something to do with finally finding out what was weird about the Sohmas. Or maybe it had been messing with the man called Hatori. He was sure that he would never forget the look on Yuki and Kyo’s face when he had walked back into the room, his memories in tack. Of course, he couldn’t tell anyone why Hatori wasn’t able to erase his memories. He couldn’t risk the Statue of Secrecy, even if the Ministry  _did_  owe him. No, he couldn’t do that, and he didn’t want them finding him.

Harry chuckled darkly and shook his head before looking around in confusion. All around, as far as he could see, were trees, trees, and more trees. He didn’t know where he was; he couldn’t even remember entering the forest.

“Merlin, Potter,” he groaned, talking to himself. “Now you’re lost.”

“Hello? Who’s there?”

Harry looked around, looking for the person who had just spoken.

“Hello,” he called out. Someone moved in the bush beside him and he turned to look. Out slithered a silver snake. It looked up at him with too intelligent eyes. _“Oh, hey.”_ Harry greeted, bending down and letting the snake curl around his arm. It was almost in the exact same place as his tattoo.

_“Hello,”_ the snake greeted back in a cheery voice. _“Would you care to take me to Shigure Sohma’s house?”_

_“Oh, you’re one of the zodiacs, right?”_ The snake nodded, its tongue flickering out to taste the air.  _“Well, I’m Harrison Potter. It’s nice to meet you.”_

_“Ayame Sohma. I’m the most lovable older brother of Yuki.”_ Harry chuckled lowly at the snake’s exuberant manner.  _“Well Harrison, I must comment that you look . . .”_

_“Hot,”_  Harry finished with another chuckle. Ayame hissed out a laugh also.

_“Oh, I like you. You simply must come to my shop. I’d love to try something out on you.”_

_“What exactly is in your shop?”_ Harry asked curiously as he looked around. He was starting to notice some familiar things.

_“Oh, I make and sell clothes, and they are absolutely wonderful! So you will come, right?”_

_“Of course,”_ Harry agreed much to Ayame’s pleasure.  _“It would be my honor.”_

Harry was sure that had Ayame been human at that moment he would have been beaming. As it was, Ayame opened his mouth wide and gave Harry the snake equivalent of a grin. Harry smiled back and turned to look as he came upon Shigure’s house.

“Guys,” he called out. “We have a visitor!” Shigure was the first to see him. He was lounging at the kitchen table, reading a book wearing a pair of glasses Harry had never seen before, and he jumped up when he saw the silver snake wrapped around Harry’s forearm.

“Aya,” he cried and the snake turned to look at him.

“Gure,” he cried back.

“What happened,” Shigure inquired curiously taking in the fact that Ayame was in his zodiac form.

“Oh, I must admit that I forgot how cold it was going to be today,” Ayame said, hanging his head in shame at his absentmindedness. “Had young Harrison not found me, I’m afraid I would have been lost in the woods.” Ayame then turned to look at Harry and he bowed his head once more. “Thank you.”

_“No prob. It’s just lucky that I was wandering around,”_  he told Ayame with a shrug of his shoulders. Someone gasped and Harry turned to see Tohru, Yuki, and Kyo standing in the doorway, staring at him with wide eyes. “What,” he asked, noticing that Shigure was also looking at him in shock.

“You . . . you were h-hissing,” Tohru stuttered, not quite believing the words even though they had come out from her mouth. Harry tilted his head to the side. He hadn’t realized he had been speaking a different language, but then again, he never really noticed it when it happened.

“I was what,” he asked, playing dumb.

“You were speaking Parseltongue, dear boy,” Ayame informed him in a proud voice. Harry winced at his words and he paled, not expecting a term from a world that had rejected him to suddenly pop up on him.

“H-how do you know that word,” he said in a voice so low it was practically a whisper. Ayame tilted his head a little, his tongue coming out to taste the mood in the room before he answered.

“Some snakes told me when I was in England a while back. They said a few special Brits could speak it.” Harry visible relaxed, getting questioning looks from all those around.

“Oh,” was all he said and then he gentle untangled Ayame from his arm. “Well . . . I’m going out for a bit,” he informed them all and left.

Immediately he went back into the forest, his heart racing at a mile a second. When Ayame said he was speaking Parseltongue his heart just about leapt out of his throat. For one insane moment, he had thought that he had finally been caught. And the relief that came later, almost made him sink down to the floor, but that wouldn’t have been smart. The Sohmas were suspicious, but there was no reason to make them even more wary. But this just proved that he needed to be more cautious. He didn’t need them finding out, and he didn’t want them to.

* * *

 

The room was cloaked in darkness, the windows covered with a dark fabric that kept the light out. A man sat in the corner of the room, curled in on himself in his bed. The hakushu he was wearing draped off of him slim body and he had to constantly pull it up for it always seemed to fall off his shoulders. Another man kneeled before him, his head bowed.

“Hatori.”

Hatori looked up at his family head.

“Yes, Akito.”

“That boy, is he still staying with Shigure,” Akito asked nonchalantly as he fingered a loose piece of string hanging from his clothes.

“Yes.”

Akito hummed thoughtfully and was silent for a bit before he said, “I think it would be prudent for me to meet this cousin of Tohru-kun’s.”

“Yes, Akito.”


	3. Amusement, Meetings, Tattoos and Fame

 

_I stared into the eye of that murderer, watched as he appraised me. I was numb, with disbelief, with horror, with fear._

_“You have been taught how to duel Harry Potter,” he hissed and for a moment I wondered if he was speaking Parseltongue before deciding that it didn’t matter. I was going to die, what did I care what language my killer was speaking? Because I did not, in fact, know how to duel, all I knew was how to disarm and that couldn’t get me very far with_ _him._

_“We bow to each other, Harry,” he continued to say. “Come, niceties must be observed . . . Dumbledore would like you to show manners . . . Bow to death, Harry. . . .” But why would I do that. Why would I want to bow to death? I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction._

_“I said, bow.”_

_He raised his wand, and I felt my back curve as he forced me to do his bidding._

_“Very good,” he said softly. “And now you face me, like a man . . . straight-backed and proud, the way your father died . . . And now – we duel.”_

_He didn’t even have to say the word before I felt the intense pain lanced through my body._

_I felt as if every nerve ending in my body would snap._

_I felt like someone had lit me on fire._

_I had never felt pain like this before, it was scorching; and then it ended._

_“A little break,” the inhuman thing whispered. “A little pause . . . That hurt, didn’t it Harry? You don’t want me to do that again, do you?” He waited patiently, wanting me to beg. But I wasn’t going to. I wouldn’t allow him to rein over me life._

_“I asked you whether you want me to do that again. Answer me!_ Imperio _!”_

_A voice whispered soft nothings in my ear. Telling me to give in, to just answer no, but I didn’t want to. I won’t give him control._

_“I WON’T!”_

_The curse lifted and I staggered on my feet._

_“You won’t,” he questioned quietly. “You won’t say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die . . . Perhaps another little dose of pain?”_

_And then the pain was back._

_Fire burning through my body._

_Someone was screaming but I was in too much pain to figure out whom._

_So much pain._  

* * *

 

“Harrison!”

Not for the first time Harry was awaken from his nightmare by a loud voice in his ear. He shot up in his bed; breathing heavily with cooling sweat sticking his clothes to his thin body.

The room was dark, signifying that it was night and Tohru was kneeling beside him, a worried expression plastered on her face. She also looked a bit fearful and there were the telltale signs that she had been crying.

“Tohru,” Harry questioned and then coughed. His throat felt raw, like he had been talking for a very long time – or maybe screaming in pain.

“Harrison, are you okay?”

“Yeah, why,” Harry asked, rubbing at his throat. Tohru shifted nervously where she kneeled, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“You . . . you were screaming,” she whispered, not looking at him. Harry swallowed thickly at her words – yup he was definitely screaming in pain then – before offering Tohru a smile.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he apologized quietly. “I’m fine now. Really,” he added when Tohru looked like she was about to protest. Tohru closed her mouth and smiled at Harry sadly, which only made him feel guilty. Tohru was too kind-hearted and he knew he was hurting her with his silence, just like he used to hurt Hermione.

“Do you want to talk about it,” she asked softly. Harry smiled again but it was rather bitter now. How good would it have been to tell Tohru about his nightmare, he wondered. To just shovel it off on her? But he wouldn’t do it. Tohru may be strong, but Harry knew that she couldn’t handle Harry’s demons.

No one could.

“No, in fact, I don’t even really remember it.”

Tohru didn’t look like she believed him, but she didn’t push – she never pushed.

“You should head back to bed,” Harry suggested after a stretched of silence. After a moment’s hesitation Tohru nodded and left, placing a kiss on Harry’s forehead as she stood. Harry sighed and settled back into his bed, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep.

Once again his nightmare flashed anew, and he was back in that cemetery, with Voldemort and his band of jeering Death Eaters. He was watching Cedric die, over and over again. And in the dead of the night he cried, muffling the sounds in his pillow, wishing he could somehow get rid of the pain but knowing he couldn’t. 

* * *

 

“Hey, what’s wrong with Scar-boy,” Arisa questioned as she and Saki settled down for lunch with Tohru and the Sohmas.

Once again Harry was missing from their little group. He hadn’t had lunch with them in over a week. In fact, it was almost like he was subtly avoiding them all.

“Hey, maybe we should all go to an amusement park,” Momiji suddenly suggested when Tohru simply looked sadly down at her food instead of answering the question.

“Why,” Kyo asked in an irritated tone.

“Because amusement parks are fun,” Momiji said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, which it kind of was. “There’s this one that’s giving out three free day passes for every ticket you buy. We could all go tomorrow after school, and maybe that’ll cheer up Harry.” Tohru perked up at the end of Momiji’s explanation.

“That’s a great idea, Momiji-kun,” she said shooting the smaller teen a smile that could replace the sun. “I’ll go and ask Harrison right now.” And then she stood up without another word and raced off. Once she was gone, Arisa rounded on Kyo and Yuki.

“Okay, what’s  _really_  going on,” she demanded, leveling them with a stare that said she wouldn’t let up until they told her. The boys shared a look before Kyo shrugged.

“Nothing much really,” he told her while Yuki glare at the back of his head.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘nothing much,’” Yuki hissed lowly.

“Why? What’s wrong,” Momiji questioned this time, looking between Kyo and Yuki in confusion. Yuki sighed heavily.

“Well, I think something . . . traumatic happened to Potter-san,” Yuki finally confessed after a moment of uncomfortable silence and pointed stares. “Just the other night he was screaming in his sleep and he sounded like he was in a lot of pain. And that wasn’t the only time.”

“That must be why he’s been so conflicted lately,” Saki commented, looking the slightest bit worried and a bit annoyed. She could never get a clear reading on Harry, only vague feelings that just left her deeply confused.

“Well damn,” Arisa said, leaning back and looking surprised. But no one said anything more on the subject for at that moment Tohru came running up to them, looking distinctly worried.

“Did you find him,” Haru asked and Tohru shook her head, looking downcast.

“Well, that’s okay,” Momiji told her, jumping up and patting her on the back. “We can make it a big surprise!” 

* * *

 

“Where are we going,” Harry asked for what had to have been the hundredth time since Tohru had announced that they weren’t heading home.

“It’s a surprise,” Momiji told him, giggling like a hyperactive child.

Harry stared at the teen for a moment then sighed. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to be getting a straight answer anytime soon, but he hated surprises. They always tended to do more harm than good when it came to him.

He spent the rest of the walk in relative silence, trying to figure out what this ‘big surprise’ was, and when he was close enough to see the top of a rollercoaster, he stopped.

“Wait,” he called and the rest of the group stopped also and turned around to look at him curiously. “You’re taking me to an amusement park,” he asked, sounding incrudious. When none of them denied it he frowned thoughtfully. “Seriously?”

“Well, yeah,” Arisa told him, walking over and throwing her arm around his shoulder. “You need a bit of fun in your life. You’ve been looking like hell as of late.” Harry looked from her to the rollercoaster he could see in the distance, and when he saw that none of them were fooling him, a blinding smile spread across his lips.

“Wow, I’ve never been to an amusement park before,” he breathed, looking very much like a little kid caught in a candy store. It was sufficient to say that Harry’s reaction stunned the others into a shocked silence. Harry was always so serious and mature that it was very odd to see him look like an actual teen for once – or maybe an overly happy child was a more accurate description.

“Really,” Yuki asked skeptically, before he realized, with a start, that _he’d_ never been to an amusement park either. In fact, none of them had ever really been to an amusement park, save for maybe Momiji, and that couldn’t have been a very happy moment for the teen – more like bitter-sweet probably.

“Nope,” Harry said. “But come on, time’s a wasting!” And then he grabbed hold of Tohru’s arm and started pulling her in the direction of the park.

They reached the park gates in a matter of minutes and after a brief fight over who would pay – Harry strongly suggested that he should, but Tohru argued that it was a treat for him and he shouldn’t have to pay for his own gift – they were inside. Harry looked around at all the ride in child-like, wide-eyed wonder.

“What should we go on first,” Arisa asked, leaning over his shoulder so that she could look at the map he had in his hand.

“Hum, I don’t really know.” Harry turned the map to the side, eyeing the large rollercoaster ride that he had first spotted and wondering how long the line might be. “We could try this,” he suggested. “But —” The rest of what he had been about to say was cut off by a high-pitched girlish squeal.

Harry’s head jerked up and the Sohma’s all flinched when they saw a group of three teen girls approaching them.

“This isn’t good,” Yuki muttered with a pensive expression that turned to one of surprise when the girls didn’t approach him – like he had first assumed they would – but instead swarmed around Harry.

“O.M.G,” one of them shouted at the top of her lungs. She grinned widely at Harry, looking like the cat that had caught the canary. “You’re Harry Potter. O.M.G!”

“Can I have your autograph,” another begged, practically gluing herself to Harry’s arm and making sure to press her breast up against him. She batted her brown eyes up at him, hoping to look seductive but really just looking kind of ridiculous.

“Can  _I_ take a picture with you,” a third one questioned, shooting her friend a dark glare.

“No,  _I_  want to take a picture with you,” the first one whined, sticking out her lower lip in an unattractive pout. She flipped her short brown hair over her shoulder and stuck herself to Harry’s other arm, clinging onto him rather desperately.

“Shut up,” the third girl snapped, wrapping her fingers around the first girl’s arm and trying to pull her friend away. “ _I_  asked him first!”

“Um, ladies,” Harry called, slipping out of the both girls’ grip, which he had to admit was very tight. “Right now isn’t really —”

“ _Onegai_ ,” all three girls begged simultaneously, turning their gazes onto him at the same time. Harry swallowed loudly and looked around for a bit like a cornered rat, before nodding his head a bit meekly. He had learned from past experience that rabid fan-girls could make Voldemort look tame, and that was saying something.

“Okay, but only  _one_  picture,” he told them, trying to be stern. All three of the girls squealed simultaneously – they seemed to do that a lot – and crowded around him once more.

“Hey, can one of you take this,” the girl with the brown hair asked, handing Tohru the camera before she could even think about declining, not that she was going to. Tohru fumbled with the thing a bit and had to ask how to use it, but after a moment of exasperated instructions, Tohru held the camera up to her eye.

“On three,” Tohru told them, she gave Harry a reminder to smile and then began to count. “ _Ichii, nii, san!_ ” The flash went off, momentarily blinding Harry. He blinked his eyes as the girls squealed once more.

“O.M.G! Everyone at school is gonna be  _so_  jealous,” the brown eyed girl said before she and her friend began to walk off. “ _Domo aughito_ ," they chorused and then they were gone.

“Well, that was strange,” Arisa commented after a moment of stunned silence. She then grinned and slapped Harry hard in the back making him wobble forward. “Who knew you’d be so popular.” She laughed and the boy, who was looking distinctly pale after that who ordeal, swallowed again.

“Ugh, yeah,” he mumbled, looking down at the map in his hand for the lack of something better to do. The others stared at him strangely, not thinking that what had just happened had been some random act. After all, the girls had known Harry’s _name_ , and they were clearly not from this town – one of them had an Osakan accent and another was clearly British – so they couldn’t have gone to their high school.

“Hey, we can go on this,” Harry told them distractedly and then he raced off to find the ride he had just pointed out, leaving the others with no choice but to follow him. For the next hour and a half, the group went on roller coasters, walked through fun houses, got chased around with water guns, and pigged out on ice-cream.

“You know, I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun,” Harry commented as he licked the chocolate ice-cream off of his face. Yuki and Kyo both nodded their heads in mutual agreement. “I’ll have to take —”

Whatever Harry had been about to say was cut off when someone called out his name once more, but this wasn’t like the group of girls from before. This person said his name in a more familiar way.

“Harry?”

Harry blinked and turned around to see a beautiful Asian girl standing a little bit away from him. She was alone and looking at him with a pleasantly surprised expression. “Well, well, if it isn’t  _the_  Harry Potter,” she said again, walking over toward them. “What are  _you_  doing here of all places? Where’s your entourage?” The girl then proceeded to look around as if trying to spot this so called ‘entourage’.

“I . . . Cho? . . . Blimey . . .” Harry stammered, not quite knowing what to say at the unexpected arrival of a fellow Hogwartian.

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you again, too, Harry,” Cho said with a roll of her brown eyes. Harry continued to stare at her dumbly, and after a while Cho’s smile faded. She looked at Harry with a critical eye, and from her frown, it looked like she didn’t like what she saw.

“Harry, are you okay?”

“Fine, why,” Harry asked, his eyes wide and innocent. Too innocent.

“Well,” Cho drawled, speaking slowly. “You looked like you’ve seen a ghost, if you know what I mean.” Harry shrugged and then turned to look pointedly at those surrounding him. Cho seemed to notice everyone at the same time and she blinked.

“Oh, well um . . . I’ll see you later, Harry?”

“Sure,” Harry said dismissively, although he didn’t sound like he meant it. Cho stared at the teen for a while more before nodding, and then she turned and walked briskly away. Harry stared determinedly at his ice-cream, ignoring the questioning looks of his friends.

“So,” Arisa finally said, “Who was that?”

“No one really,” Harry replied shortly. Arisa’s brows rose skeptically and she shared a look with those around her.

“Didn’t seem like no one,” she observed. Harry lifted his gaze to glare heatedly at her. Tohru shifted nervously in her seat and the Sohmas all leaned back out of instinct. Saki shivered as some unknown power seemed to uncoil from Harry.

Harry sighed and took a calming breath, pushing his magic back down.

It wasn’t Arisa’s fault that a good day had turned a little sour – although if he had to admit it, he kind of expected something to go wrong. But she hadn’t conjured up Cho Chang just to ruin his day. And she hadn’t made his old school crush act like she cared about him.

No, none of that was Arisa’s fault.

“Fine.” Harry caved with another sigh and a roll of his eyes. “That was Cho Chang, my ex.”

“But I thought you were gay,” Momiji asked, tilting his head to the side. Harry sighed and massaged his brow as he felt the beginnings of a headache building.

“She helped me figure a few things out,” he told them all shortly and then stood up and walked away, effectively ending the conversation. 

* * *

 

“We’ll have to do that again sometime,” Yuki said as their slightly smaller group made their way down the familiar dirt path to Shigure’s house.

“Yeah, we can treat ourselves to it after graduation or something,” Harry agreed, completely missing the somber mood that had fallen over the group at the mention of graduation.

“Or something,” Kyo mumbled glumly. Harry caught the mood then and he looked over at the red-head questioningly but before he could question Kyo on it, he spotted the sleek black car parked outside of Shigure’s house. He titled his head curiously at it.

“I wonder who’s here,” he question more to himself then to the others. His answer came in the form of Hatori, who was sitting outside on the porch with Shigure, smoking.

“Hey, guy,” Shigure called cheerfully, but Harry had already caught the sullen expression that had been on his face before he had spotted them, and a serious tension was still hanging in the air. It was so thick; Harry could practically taste it over the tang of the Sohma curse.

“Hi, what’s going on?”

He and the others stopped right in front of the two adults, their stance suggesting that they weren’t going to move until they got an answer.

Hatori sighed and stubbed out his cigarette.

“I just came to tell Shigure that Akito has requested your presence.”

There was a beat of silence in which fear flashed across Tohru, Kyo, and Yuki’s faces and then tension seemed to thicken to an almost suffocating atmosphere.

“Okay,” Harry drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked around the group with narrowed emerald eyes. “What am I missing,” he asked suspiciously, but no one answered him.

“I should be getting back,” Hatori said after a moment. He said goodbye to all of them and then to Harry said, “I’ll be expecting you tomorrow at noon.” And then he was gone.

After he had driven away Harry rounded on the remaining members of the rather secretive family – waiting until Tohru had darted inside, saying something about dinner, to begin his demanding.

“Well,” he demanded when they continued to say nothing.

“It’s nothing, really,” Shigure told him on a shrug, trying to appear casual.

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” Harry hissed, his eyes flashing warningly. “I’m not a fool and I don’t expect to be treated like one. I can see that this is not ‘nothing’, because if it was ‘nothing’ none of you would be this tense. So once again I’ll ask: what the hell am I missing?”

There was a beat of nervous silence as the three shared loaded looks.

“Akito can be very temperamental,” Yuki finally spoke up in a rather dark tone.

“Uh-huh,” Harry said skeptically.

“And he doesn’t like to be crossed,” Shigure inputted.

“So you should probably swallow your pride when around him,” Kyo added, surprisingly helpful, when Harry continued to look skeptical. “No one can handle him when he’s mad.” Harry nodded, the skeptical expression not leaving his face despite Kyo’s warning.

“Right, whatever,” he said, and then added, “Look, none of you know what I can or can’t handle, so really, your concern is wasted.” And then he went into the house also, leaving the three Sohma’s to stare after him in concern.

“Honestly, that boy had too much spunk,” Shigure complimented sadly. “And I’m afraid Akito’s going to knock it right out of him.” 

* * *

 

Noon the next day found Harry standing outside of the ominous gates leading into the Sohma Estate. From what little Harry could see standing at the large gate; he assumed the Estate was huge.

He was slightly surprised when Momiji meet him at the gates instead of Hatori, but the boy’s bubbly personality helped ease some on Harry’s anxiety over the situation.

“So, what zodiac animal are you,” Harry asked in an attempt at small talk.

“I’m the rabbit,” Momiji announced as if it were the most exciting thing in the world, but Harry didn’t miss the deep sadness that flashed in the teen’s brown eyes.

“Well that seems kind of obvious,” Harry said and Momiji nodded.

The two walked in silence for a few minutes, and Harry used that moment to take in his surroundings. His first assumption was right, the Estate was huge. There were a number of small houses – if a three story home could be called small – surrounded by individual gardens. It was very much like walking into a gated community; only here everyone was related to each other in some way – like a Wizarding family.

Harry walked by nicely kept parks where small children played. At one point he even thought he passed by a school, but he couldn’t have been too sure. There were a number of people walking around, and some even gave the two a nice wave of hello or a nod of the head. Harry also saw what he assumed to be maids, for these women always wore the same kind of clothes and they all bowed when Momiji walked by.

It was a while before Harry decided to ask a question that had been bothering him for a long time, or at least as long as he had known about the curse which wasn’t all that long.

“Momiji, can I ask you something kind of personal?” When Momiji nodded Harry continued. “Do any of you guys live with your parents?”

Momiji’s grin froze on his face and for a moment it looked horribly force, but then the boy turned away and Harry couldn’t seen his expression anymore.

“Well, um . . . Kisa and Hiro still live with their parents. They’re the youngest members,” he added when Harry looked confused. “And um . . . Kagura and Rit-chan, they’re in college right now, they still visit their parents. And I kind of live with my dad.”

“Oh,” Harry said softly. “Why don’t the others?”

Momiji let out an uncharacteristic sigh – which brought Harry up as it contrasted so violently with his normal mood.

“Well, I suppose I could tell you,” he said more to himself than Harry as he continued to avoid the other’s patient gaze. “Well, you see, for us Zodiac member there are only two ways our parents can really react to us. They’re either very overprotective, or they reject us. And sometime they  _try_  to accept us but they can’t. It’s hard for them to understand, and some never really get it, but they try a lot.” Harry nodded even though Momiji couldn’t see him.

“My mother,” Momiji suddenly said after a while when Harry thought he was finished. The younger teen’s voice was so low, Harry could barely hear him. The two had stopped walking and the blonde was staring down at his feet. “She chose to reject me, and she rejected me with her very being. In the end, it was too much for her to handle and I agreed to let her have her memories suppressed.”

A large lump suddenly found itself lodged inside Harry’s throat after Momiji’s unexpected confession and his heart went out to the teen. How could someone be forced to allow their own mother to forget about them?

“But you know,” Momiji continued to say. It was like the dam holding back his words had been broken and all the things he had wanted to say then came pouring out of him now. “I never wanted her to forget. I wished she would have just tried harder. I wish she could have been strong enough to remember and to keep remembering. I wish she —” Momiji choked on a sob that had somehow escaped him and finally Harry could see the deep seeded sadness that the blonde was holding in when he looked up suddenly. Without really thinking about it, Harry pulled the boy into his arms and let him soak his shirt with salty tears.

“I can’t be empathetic and tell you how I understand how you feel, because I can’t possible understand how you feel. But I do understand how it feels to be alone in this world, to feel like no one loves you. I do understand how it feels to not be able to go to your mother when you have a nightmare, or when you hurt yourself. I do understand how that feels. And I can sympathize, because sometimes even I wish my mum had been strong enough. I wish that maybe instead of sacrificing herself she could have just taken me and ran. But she didn’t and sometimes I hate her for it. I hate her for leaving me alone. But it’s okay, because there  _are_  others. I know for a fact that Tohru cares about you.”

By the time Harry was done with his little monologue, Momiji was down to sniffles. He pulled back and wiped his eyes before offering Harry a watery smile.

“Thanks,” he thanked and Harry shrugged.

“No problem, I’m glad you can talk to me,” he told him before playfully ruffling Momiji’s hair, the teen was like a little kid in that retrospect, a little brother Harry always wanted but couldn’t possibly have.

Momiji laughed, his cheerful and bubbly personality coming back.

“Do you know that I have a little sister,” he said with a goofy grin spreading across his face.

“That’s nice.”

Momiji nodded in agreement and started leading Harry further into the estate once more.

“Uh-huh, and she looks just like Mama. She came and visited me the other day and you wanna know what she said?” Harry nodded, inwardly glad that Momiji was over his little bout of depression. “She said she wants me to be her big brother!”

Momiji’s cheerful mood lasted until they had reached the center of the Estate and then he became tense and his cheerful disposition was more strained. Harry couldn’t understand it, but the look Momiji gave the building was one of both fear and awe.

“Well, this is it,” Momiji informed Harry, waving his hand at the oppressive building. Harry gave the boy a reassuring smile and squeezed his shoulder.

“Thanks.”

“Wait.” Harry paused and turned around to face the blonde who was rocking back on his heels with an anxious expression. “I-I’ll . . . wait for you . . . out here . . . okay?”

“Sure, but you don’t really have to,” Harry tried to tell him but Momiji was shaking his head before Harry even finished. “Really, I’ll be fine.”

“. . . I’ll still be waiting out here,” Momiji said after a while, casting his brown eyes around the building. He then offered Harry a tight lipped smile.

“If you insist,” Harry agreed rather reluctantly, before turning and walking into the large building. An old woman with a sever look and a tight bun – it reminded him of Professor McGonagall or was that Headmistress McGonagall now – was waiting for him when he walked through the door. She didn’t speak, but bowed politely and then turned, leaving him no choice but to follow her in.

After a while he could understand why she was there to lead him. The Sohma Main Estate was large, with halls upon halls upon halls and Harry found that he was completely lost after a few turns – and to think Harry had thought Hogwarts was confusing. The place seemed never ending, and finally, after ten minutes of following the lady blindingly, Harry came to a stop outside of a pair of inky black doors. The maid knocked on it and a soft voice from inside told them to come in.

The room inside was equally as black as the door leading to it, and the only light in the room came from the shoji doors leading out to a small koi garden. Outlined by the door was a thin and rather fragile-looking person. They were lying down lazily in the door frame, legs out straight and one arm hanging over the slightly raised platform – just barely grazing the grass. The old maid bowed to the figure – although they were not facing her – before exiting the room and shutting the door behind her.

“Harry Potter,” the person spoke after a moment, and their voice was soft and smooth, the voice of a person used to getting what they wanted and it was another reminder of an old Professor. This was a voice that could quite a room, just like Snape. Harry was finding all these reminders to be a little unnerving and rather daunting.

“Yes,” Harry said back politely, shifting on his feet as he took in the room. It was very scarce, with only a bed and a few vases and the walls were painted black, which was probably what made the room look so dark. “Are you Akito Sohma?”

“Yes, I am,” the person said before standing slowly. When the light hit Akito’s face Harry could see that she was equally as attractive as the rest of her family.

“Forgive me, but I was under the impression that you were a man,” Harry blurted out before he could help himself. Akito’s eyes flashed and in another second she was right in front of Harry, her hand squeezing his jaw.

“Who told you,” she demanded in a slightly hysterical voice. Harry’s eyes narrowed dangerously and he slapped Akito’s hand away before rubbing his sore jaw. For a thin and sickly-looking person, Akito was surprisingly strong.

“It’s obvious in the way you walk and hold yourself,” Harry hissed out, his anger in being manhandled boiling inside of him. “And I suggest that you don’t touch me.”

“Why, you insolent little —”

“I’d rather you not insult me either,” Harry cut across coolly. “I’ve done nothing of that sort to you, so you should learn to extend the same courtesy to me.” Akito gritted her teeth, seething in anger – she had never been defied so openly – and she raised her hand, swinging it around to slap Harry. Harry, however, caught her hand before it could make contact with his face.

“Who are you to tell me what to do,” Akito hissed venomously, aiming to harm with words since force did not seem to work. “I’ve allowed you to stay with my zodiac, I’ve allowed you to keep  _my_ secret, and this is how you treat me? You owe me! I could have told them to kick you out onto the street!”

“If I remember correctly,” Harry said icily, letting go of Akito’s hand and practically throwing it in her face. “You didn’t allow me anything. Actually, you tried to  _erase_  my memories. So I owe you nothing. If anything, you owe me an apology, but I can see that that’s not going to happen.”

Akito’s mouth fell open with a pop and she gapped at Harry.

“Well, seeing as you have nothing else to say, I’ll be taking my leave. This trip was completely meaningless.”

Harry then turned and walked away, but not before seeing Akito flush angrily. 

* * *

 

The trip out of the Main Estate was surprisingly short.

Harry wondered vaguely if that old maid had taken a longer way just to annoy him or psyche him out. Momiji was insultingly shocked when Harry walked out of the building unscathed, and as he walked Harry out of the Estate he continued to pester him about what had happened. Harry learned that Akito wasn’t known for letting people leave his quarters without some kind of injury, whether it is physical or mental.

“Well, it appears that Akito and I are going to be talking a lot in the future,” Harry had commented lightly with a chuckle, but Momiji had continued to look worried.

“I really think you should just swallow your pride when it comes to Akito. He might start targeting you next,” Momiji fretted.

“Next,” Harry questioned, arching an eyebrow and completely disregarding Momiji’s warning. “Who has he targeted in the past?”

Momiji shifted uncomfortably and a guilty expression crossed his face.

“Well, last summer he set his sights on Tohru,” the blonde boy confessed softly, his eyes tightening in pain. Harry’s hands balled up into fist reflectively but his face remained passive.

“I see,” he said in a chilly tone that had Momiji shivering, that and some unknown instinct that seemed to scream at him that Harry was dangerous.

By then they had reached the main gates and the feeling had passed, leaving Momiji feeling distinctively sadden by the fact that they would be parting ways.

“Hey, do you want to come over,” Harry asked, offering the boy a smile. “Tohru had to work today so I’m going to try my hand at cooking, think you can handle it?” Momiji brightened considerably and nodded his head rapidly – reminding Harry of the animal he was cursed with.

“Great!”

“And afterward we can go and pick up Tohru together,” Momiji added.

“Do you know where Tohru works,” Harry asked for he had never been to Tohru’s work place before. In fact, he didn’t even know what it was that Tohru did.

“Yup, she works in Papa’s building. She helps clean it.”

“Hum, well Tohru does seem like the cleaning type.” Momiji nodded in agreement as Harry posed a thoughtful look. “Now that I think about it, she’s always cleaning up at home.”

“That’s because none of those guys know how to look after themselves,” Momiji commented with a light chuckle.

“I suppose you are right,” Harry agreed. “They do seem rather dependent of Tohru, and she doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Like the Gullible Traveler,” Momiji said excitedly and Harry chuckled.

“You know, I had the same thought when I first met her,” Harry confessed. “I can certainly see why all of you didn’t want to trust me at first.” Both teens laughed as they both thought back to their first meeting, and they continued to laugh for a while.

“You know,” Harry said after a while. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something about that.”

“What?”

“Well, I notice that you seemed to . . .” Harry trailed off, not wanting to say it if it wasn’t true but not wanting to put Momiji in the spot if it was.

Momiji, however, shrugged and laughed it off.

“Yeah, I do. I’m surprised that you noticed.”

“Well, it wasn’t that hard to spot,” Harry told him. “But yours is not on the same level as Kyo’s.” Momiji laughed again at this.

“Now that one’s very much obvious,” he said before sobering quickly. “But yeah, I’m not on the same level.” Momiji sighed sadly before he shook his head, trying to bounce back. “So, do  _you_  have someone?”

Now it was Harry’s turn to sigh sadly.

“You could say that I  _had_  someone and there were others before that.” Harry shook his head and then added. “But only one guy and I  _know_  that will never work out.”

“How can you be so sure,” Momiji asked, tilting his head a little.

“Because, for the longest time, we hated each other,” Harry explained, looking straight at the house that was slowly appearing before him. “We were worse off than Kyo and Yuki.”

“Oh,” Momiji sighed softly. Harry grimaced and nodded.

“Is something burning,” Momiji then asked as they crossed the threshold of the house.

Both teen shared a panicked look before they bolted to the kitchen, where they could see smoke emerging and hear someone, no doubt Kyo, yelling.

They opened the door to see Shigure standing by the stove, which was shrouded in a thick cover of smoke. He had tears streaming down his face and he was moaning something about his house being destroyed under his breath. Yuki and Kyo were also near the stove, Yuki staring at the pot in his hand in confusion and Kyo red in the face, yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Hum . . . what happened,” Harry asked, looking around dubiously.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Kyo continued to yell, throwing his hands up in the air as a show of his frustration. “This _idiot_! That’s ‘what happened’!”

“But I really thought I had it this time,” Yuki was saying softly to himself, sounding oddly like a bereted child. He looked honestly surprised and confused, like the events that led up to this moment didn’t make any sense.

“How many times must we tell you  _not_  to touch the stove,” Kyo boomed, and Harry could practically see a vein throbbing in his head.

“Uh, you know, why doesn’t everyone just calm down and go into the living room,” Harry suggested. “And I’ll clean this up and make some dinner.”

Kyo stopped yelling for the moment and turned to look at Harry as if judging to see if he could be trusted in the kitchen. Harry smiled at him, hoping it would ease his worries. A few weeks living under the same roof and Kyo still wasn’t comfortable around him.

“Fine, whatever,” he finally said and stormed past them. “I’ll be on the roof.”

Yuki looked sadly down at the pot he was still holding before he sighed in resignation and left the room also, and after some coxing Harry managed to extract Shigure – who was still bemoaning the damage to his kitchen.

“Wow, that was some nice damage control,” Momiji complimented and Harry shot him a grin and said, “I’ve had some practice.” 

* * *

 

“Wow! This is great,” Shigure moaned in pleasure, shoveling more food into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in days. “I can now see how you and Tohru are related.”

“Eh, well I don’t think I’m that good,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his head. “I’ve got nothing on Tohru.”

“Potter-san, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Yuki started and at Harry’s nod he continued. “Why is it that you always wear long sleeves?”

Harry blinked and then looked down to see that he was in fact wearing a long sleeved shirt.

“Huh, you know, I’ve never noticed that,” he confessed and then shrugged. “I supposed it’s just become second nature. Just a habit. There’s no other reason behind it.”

“A habit,” Momiji asked curiously. “Why?”

Harry blinked again and then laughed.

“Oh, that’s right, I never told you guys.”

Harry then laid down his chopstick and started rolling up the sleeve on his right arm, the others staring at him curiously. When he was done Harry turned his arm to show them the green and silver ink snake that was curling up his forearm, without the glamour you would be able to watch the snake coil around Harry’s arm lazily. Its head rested on his shoulder, the tongue stretched out to lick at his neck and its tail curled once around his wrist.

“I normally like to keep this covered. You know, so that people don’t immediately write me down as some sort of delinquent.”

“Wow,” Momiji gasped. “That’s so cool! When’d you get it?”

“A couple of years ago,” Harry told him, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. “Best day of my life. The look on my aunt’s face.” Harry shook his head, his eyes gleaming in a way that would have made the Marauders proud. “Priceless.”

“If your aunt didn’t approve why’d you get it,” Yuki asked curiously as Harry rolled his sleeve back down. He couldn’t understand why anyone would go out of their way to displease someone, but that could be because he’d spent most of his life trying hard to please others.

“Because she didn’t approve of it”" Harry said and the Sohma’s stared at him in confusion, not completely understanding his logic. Harry sighed and pushed his plate away so that he could lean against it.

“Look, for eleven years of my life I’ve always craved attention because I was sorely deprived of it. I spent those years always doing exactly what my aunt, or uncle, or even my pig of cousin, Dudley, told me to do. But as soon as I found out that I had something a whole lot better than what they could offer me, well I stopped trying to please them. So, as soon as I came of age, I went and got my ear pierced and this tattoo; all just to freak them out. I’m pleased to say that it worked.”

“Wow,” Momiji said again and Harry shrugged, what more could be said?

“So, why a snake,” Kyo asked, his curiosity getting the best of him and trampling over the animosity he felt toward Harry.

“Hum,” Harry hummed, broken for his small trip down memory lane.

“The tattoo,” Kyo elaborated. “Why’d you choose a snake?”

Harry blinked for a moment before the questioned registered.

“Oh . . . no reason, just sentimental purposes.”

“And the dragon,” Momiji piped up, pointing rather rudely at Harry’s ear.

“Another sentimental reason,” Harry replied calmly in a wistful tone. “A reminder of something I will never have.” 

* * *

 

A few hours later had Harry sitting out on the porch, gazing absently up at the night sky. He heard when Tohru came out to join him, but he didn’t turn to look at her.

“Do you know,” he asked her as she settled down next to him. He could feel Tohru’s inquisitive gaze on him and so he elaborated. “About Akito.” Tohru’s tell-tale gasp showed that she really did know.

“How did you find out?”

“It was easy enough to see,” Harry told her with a shrug. “I’m just surprised that the rest of the family doesn’t see it.” He then turned to look at her when she let out a somber sigh.

“Tohru, what exactly is going on here?”

Tohru jerked a little at the question and turned to look at Harry with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“What is this curse doing to this family?”

Tohru hesitated a bit, chewing on her lip thoughtfully as she considered whether it was in her right to disclose the Sohma family dilemma to Harry.

“I don —”

“I was talking to Momiji earlier today,” Harry cut in. “And he told me some stuff . . . about how the parents handle this . . . I just want to know. Maybe I can help in some way.”

Tohru sighed and turned to look up at the moon, which had just appeared behind some trees.

“I’m not sure if you can,” she whispered after a moment. “I’ve been searching for a way . . . but I’m not sure if there  _is_  one. And I’m not the only one looking. So, even though I have nothing now, I know there might be a way. You may think it’s naïve of me, but I still have hope and it will be done. It has to be . . . before spring.”

Tohru’s tone turned a little desperate toward the end, but Harry could sense that that was not a subject Tohru was willing to talk about. Instead he pondered over Tohru’s words.

This curse was turning out to be a whole lot more than what Harry originally thought it was. It stemmed deeper than just a normal curse, and it was clear that it was affecting this family in a negative way.

Harry sighed and shook his head. It was times like these that he wished Hermione was with him, she could surely figure out this puzzle. And then Harry had a vision of Hermione jumping up and declaring that she would be off to the library. He chuckled inwardly at the image.

“Harrison,” Tohru said after a moment of silence. Harry turned to look at her and he could see from the small smile on her face that she was trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. “What are you friends like,” she questioned.

“Well . . . I have two best friends, Ron and Hermione,” Harry told her, a smile creeping onto his face as he thought of the two. “We’ve been through everything together. They’re the best friends a person could have and without them . . . well I probably wouldn’t be here.”

Tohru nodded thoughtfully.

“How’d you meet them?”

Harry laughed at this, but Tohru couldn’t figure out what was funny about her question.

“That’s actually a funny story,” Harry said as way of explanation. “Ron, he was easy to make friends with. We met on the train to school and after sharing some food with him we were best mates. But Hermione” – Harry shook his head at her name – “she was a bit difficult. At first I never really liked her. She was much to bossy and she was such a smart person that she always felt the need to share her smarts with everyone. Ron likes to call her a know-it-all.

“Anyways, one day during class Hermione took it upon herself to correct Ron. He got angry and said some cruel things and then . . . well to make long story short we ended up the best of friends after that.” Harry rushed the last part of his story, feeling very much guilty that he couldn’t give Tohru the whole truth. He hoped that one of these days he’d be able to tell her everything – the Wizarding World, Hogwarts, Quidditch, everything.

“Well that’s nice,” Tohru said happily. “Do you have any other friends?”

“Yeah, there’s Ron’s sister Ginny, although I think she just happens to really like me. A bit of a problem there,” Harry turned to wink at Tohru and she blushed and giggled. “And there’s Luna who . . . well Saki seemed to remind me of her a lot, actually. And then there’s Neville. He’s really nice although he does think very little of himself. We’ve been working on his self confidence for a while now.”

“They sound like wonderful people.”

Harry hummed his agreement, but a small pang in his chest made him realize how homesick he was and not just for his friends. The image of twin bright green eyes and childish laughter swam before him before he shook it away.

“You miss them, don’t you,” Tohru observed.

“Yes. I do.” 

* * *

 

“Harrison! My dear boy, come in, come in!”

Ayame’s jubilant cry was all that Harry could register before he was pulled forcefully into the man’s shop. He got one look at Yuki’s face – a look of pure fear – and he wondered if maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

When Tohru had first suggested that they all visit Ayame’s shop, Harry had been quick to agree, completely ignoring Yuki’s look of clear revulsion. After all, he knew now that Yuki and Ayame didn’t exactly see eye to eye. But, now that he was actually here, Harry wasn’t quite sure if he should just take it all in stride or run for the hills and at the moment running for the hills sounded like a very good idea.

See, Ayame didn’t just sell clothes; he sold clothes for people who go to book stores and pick up erotic manga. He sold things like maid dresses or cat suits. Yes, there was some decent article of clothing in the store, like formal Japanese festival wear, but the items that really sold had Harry cringing – like the school girl uniform that had a way too short skirt. Just imagining some of his fan girls in that had Harry shivering in fear. Ayame, however, much to Harry’s relief, lead them straight to the back of the store, to the more  _normal_  stuff.

“So, um . . . this is your shop,” Harry asked after he’d been dumped unceremonially into an overstuffed couch. “It’s very . . . interesting.”

“Of course it is,” Ayame boomed, making Tohru, who was sitting next to him, jump in shock and spill her tea a little. Ayame didn’t seem to notice.

“Now, I’m sure you are all dying to try something on?”

He looked around the group hopefully and Harry knew that when those silver eyes landed on him, he would not be able to refuse. Hoping to avoid the inevitable, he looked around to see that, besides Tohru, none of the others looked like they were ‘dying’ to try anything either. In fact, Kyo looked faintly green, as if someone had forced something unpleasant down his throat, and Yuki looked humorously liked a cornered rat, his eyes scanning frantically for some sort of escape.

“Harrison?”

Harry jumped a little and turned to find Ayame staring at him intently. He swallowed loudly before offering the snake a wary smile.

“Um . . . sure?”

Before he could even fully get the words out, Ayame was pulling him to his feet and spinning him around.

“Wonderful, wonderful,” he shouted squeezing Harry’s shoulder. “Mine, dear!” And then Harry was pushed into the arms of a girl with a scary shine in her eyes. Harry’s own eyes widened significantly and he turned them onto Tohru before he was pulled out of view.

“Something green, Mine,” Ayame shouted at the now closed door. “To bring out his eyes!”

He then sat down on the couch and calmly sipped his tea, as if Harry wasn’t shouting in the other room.

“Hey, wait, what are you doing with  _that_ ,” Harry’s voice sounded. “Hey! . . . Stop! . . . Don’t touch me there! . . . _Oi!_ ”

“Um . . . is he okay in there,” Tohru asked hesitantly, biting her lip as she glanced at the door, where it sounded like Harry was fighting for his life.

“Oh yes, yes, he should be fine,” Ayame said with a careless wave of his hand. As the words left his mouth Harry let out a loud yell and then fell oddly silent. Yuki, Kyo, and Tohru turned to stare at the door with wide eyes, wondering what could possibly be happening in the room. After a few moments more, the door cracked open and Mine stepped out with a wide smile.

“All done boss,” she chirped cheerfully as Ayame stood. He peered into the room then laughed and patted Mine affectionately on the head.

“Good job Mine,” he congratulated before gesturing at the door. “Come on out, my dear boy, and show your friends how wonderful you look.”

“I feel like a mannequin,” Harry complained before he shuffled into view.

He was wearing a suit that looked like it had come from the Victorian era. The coat was a deep emerald that did, in fact, bring out Harry’s eyes. Bold brass buttons trailed down its front and an equally gold watch dangled from one of the pockets. His slacks were a dark black, dropping down and draping over shiny black leather shoes. The shirt Harry wore under the coat was white and had a frilly collar. Harry stared surly over at them, not really able to see anyone because Mine had stolen his glasses – so that his eyes could be seen easily!

“Oh,” Tohru gasped and fluttered over to his side. “Wow. It’s like you stepped right of a book from the eighteen hundreds England,” she said with a breathy laugh. Harry squinted down at her before his mouth twitched into an unwilling smile.

“Really,” he then asked. “So, I don’t look as foolish as I feel?”

“Not at all, dear boy. As if any of my creations could make anyone look foolish,” Ayame said, dropping his hand on Harry’s shoulders and then spinning him around so that he could view himself in the full length mirror. Harry squinted at his reflection before grinning.

“Cool,” he breathed. “Wait until Malfoy get’s a look at me. I’d like for him to say something about how I look now,” he said in an off-handed manner, not realizing his slip until Ayame caught hold of it.

“Who’s this Malfoy person?”

“W-what,” Harry spluttered, turning a dark shade of red. A slow grin stretched across Ayame’s face and he threw his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“I see, so would this Malfoy happen to be an ex-boyfriend or lover,” he questioned as Harry continued to splutter.

“Nii-san,” Yuki called in warning, looking highly uncomfortable at the way the conversation was progressing. “That’s hardly any of your business.” Ayame stared at Yuki for a long moment before he sighed and released Harry.

“You’re quite right, Yuki,” he said. Yuki blinked in shock as if to say ‘I am?’ and Ayame nodded his head. “Yes, now, I do believe that it is the lovely Tohru’s turn. Come now, we must make haste.”

Tohru let out a little yelp as Mine grabbed hold of her forearm and she was guided into the other room. 

* * *

 

An hour later, and all four teens were standing at the front of the shop as Ayame took their photo. Yuki and Kyo had been dressed in a similar fashion as Harry.

Yuki was in a dark blue coat, sliver buttons gleaming like stars on his chest and a pale grey shirt underneath. An elaborate batch of silver swirls danced across the hem of his coat and the edges of his sleeves. Slacks a bold white folded over smoky grey shoes. Ayame even managed to get him into a dark grey bowler hat. The offending object had, at first, caused Harry to burst into joyous laughter but that had only been because the thing had reminded Harry of the former Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

Kyo had been decked out in brown, much to his displeasure. His buttons were copper and there was an articulate bright orange fiery pattern racing around his waist. His shirt was a smooth off-white color and his slacks were a dark brown, the same as his shoes, which were slightly scoffed. To complete it all, Ayame, much to Kyo’s annoyance, had added some little attachment so that Kyo’s hair was longer and in a ponytail.

Both boys were standing protectively on either side of Tohru, glaring at Ayame venomously.

Tohru, being the only girl, was given a very elaborate dress. It was a swirl of soft lavenders, cool blues, and loud purples. It dipped down low in the front and spanned out at the bottom with a bunch of frills. The skirt puffed out and draped over her feet, hiding the small heels Mine had forced onto her. It was sleeveless but Tohru’s hands were hidden in elbow length gloves that matched the dress. Mine had even taken the time to make Tohru’s hair spiral out into a bunch of curls. The overall effect was dramatic and helped bring out Tohru’s inner beauty, or so Harry thought.

“Are you done now,” Kyo asked impatiently after being forced to stand still for so long. Ayame stepped back with a disapproving expression and wagged his finger at Kyo.

“Now, now, Kyokichi,” he said in a patronizing tone. “Patience is but a virtue. You must be quiet so I can take these pictures. And then, after much deliberation from _moi_ , I will allow you all to become the face of my new line.”

Ayame then sighed dramatically and looked off into the distance. Harry swallowed nervously and inched away from the man, a sour taste that wasn’t the magic in the air, filling his mouth.

“Wait . . . face,” he asked uncertainly. “As in, our faces will help present these clothes?”

Ayame blinked then turned to look at the boy in confusion.

“Of course,” he chirped. “You will all be famous. People will flock —”

“I don’t want to be famous,” Harry cut across rather coldly. Ayame blanched and the three teens turned to stare at Harry with undisguised shock. Harry was always so polite and courteous, so this new sharp tone was unexpected.

“Well . . . I . . .” Ayame blinked, not knowing what to think for a moment – which was a definite first – then seemed to compose himself after a moment. “Nonsense, Harrison, my boy!” he boomed, laughing loudly as if Harry had told some kind of joke. “But of course you do! Everyone wants to be famous!”

“Well I don’t,” Harry told him rather stubbornly. “Look,” he continued to say when Ayame opened his mouth to speak once more. “Do any of you even know what fame does to people?” He looked around the group to see blank confused faces. “I didn’t think so.”

“Well how would you know,” Kyo demanded rather rudely, not liking to fact that Harry sounded so smug and superior.

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry told him before turning and walking into the back room so that he could change back into his clothes.

The Sohmas and Tohru stared after him in confusion.

Harry closed the door behind him and leaned against it, feeling worn out. He thought over the words he had spoken to them and immediately regretted saying anything. He just couldn’t help it. Every time he thought about what fame had done to him, done to his family and friends, he grew angry.

He didn’t need the constant reminder that he was the only survivor of a horrible killing.

He didn’t need to be reminded that he was the only one to face a maniac and live to tell the tale.

He didn’t need to be reminded that he was a war hero, that he helped save the Wizarding world, that he was responsible for some of the deaths.

He didn’t need that reminder and he didn’t want it.

Someone else could have his fame.

Someone else could have all the attention, could take all the staring, all the photos, all the headlines.

Fame was something he could live without and something that he wanted to live without.

Fame was nothing to him and he would avoid it for as long as he could. 

* * *

 

_I was running down a dark corridor. Turning the corner, I jumped out of the way just as a body came crashing down in front of me. His eyes stared unseeingly upward, his mouth slightly open, and his head leaking tremendous amounts of blood._

_There was a flash and then I was staring blankly down at Snape, his eyes staring straight into mine as he demanded, with his last breath, that I look at him._

_Another flash and now I stared the bodies of Lupin and Tonks as I clutched their one-month-old child to my chest._

_Flash, Dumbledore’s body spread eagle-like at the base of the astronomy toward._

_Flash, Cedric Diggory, dead eyes staring up at the grey sky._

_Flash, Sirius falling in slow motion behind the veil._

_Flash, Fred Weasley crushed by rocks, the ghost of a smile on his face._

_Flash, Collin Creevey’s small body cradled in Neville’s arms._

_Flash, tons of dead bodies strewn across the grass of a place I viewed as my home._

_Then there was complete darkness and the sound of someone screaming accompanied by a high cold laugh echoed around me._  

* * *

 

Harry’s eyes popped open and a startled gasp escaped his lips.

His nightmare played once more before his eyes and, unwillingly, his body curled in on itself as a strange pain ripped through it, stemming from his heart. Tears pricked in his eyes and he blinked them away as he tried to straighten out his body.

It took more effort than he originally thought, but within minutes he laid upon his bed, gasping for air.

 _It’s coming,_  he thought vaguely, staring up at the dark ceiling.  _Only a week now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! Bet you weren't expecting those fan-girls. And Cho! Actually, I have to admit that I don't know how she got in here, she just sort of walked in uninvited. I was so not planning on using her, but oh well, it all worked out anyway.


	4. Anniversaries and Alcohol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER ALERT: From chapter 106 of Fruits Basket onward. Which is basically from when Rin ran away from the hospital after the whole Akito incident.  
> From now onward there will be other stuff from the manga in the story.  
> Also . . . in case you're curious, the story is currently taking place end of April, beginning of May. Harry had been with the Sohma's since February.

“Hiro!”

The voice of Kisa Sohma was – even in her excitement – soft and low, but Hiro always knew what to look for in its undistinguishable depths.

“See, no one’s here, just like I said,” Kisa continued to say, but in truth, Hiro wasn’t really listening. He was concentrating more of the warmth of Kisa’s hand inside of his. “Come on, Hiro, to the swings!”

Hiro finally looked up and just in time to catch the blinding smile Kisa threw at him over her shoulder. It was a beautiful smile in a face that – if Hiro was being honest with himself – he loved way too much.

“What exactly are we doing here Kisa,” he asked his distant cousin, friend, and first time crush. “It’s really early.”

And it was.

It was on this unusually chilly spring morning, five to be exact, that Kisa had showed up at his house – out of breath and claiming that she had done something extraordinary. The sun had barely even touch the horizon yet when she had awoken him. It was only the look of pleasure mingled with shock on her beautiful face that had drawn Hiro out of his bed at this god-awful hour – that and the prospect that Kisa wanted to show him something she claimed was ‘the most amazing thing in the World’. Of course, Hiro believed that just about everything Kisa did was ‘the most amazing thing in the World’.

“I told you,” Kisa said with a small – and cute – giggle. “I have to _show_ you.”

Kisa giggled again at the confused expression on Hiro’s face before letting go of his hand – much to Hiro’s displeasure – and running over to the only set of swings located in West Sohma Park. Not one to show his childish side, Hiro stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked calmly toward her. She was already swinging high in the air by the time Hiro had reached her.

“Kisa, be careful,” Hiro called out in warning as the girl continued to push herself higher and higher into the air. He frowned when she nearly slipped off at one point and called out his warning again.

“I’m fine,” Kisa called back when she was coming down on a down swing. As she pumped her legs to go back up, she threw Hiro another smile. “Okay, look at this.”

Then – much to Hiro’s horror – she let go of the chains and went flying into the air. Hiro started forward with the intent of trying to catch her, but – surprisingly – Kisa didn’t need to be caught. She hung in the air aloft for a moment – a moment way too long to be considered normal – and then floated to the ground like a leaf, giggling along the way.

Hiro watched the entire scene in utter amazement, not really believing what had just occurred. Kisa was right about one thing, he did have to see that or he would have thought that she had gone insane.

“H-how did you  _do_  that,” he finally questioned when Kisa ran to his side, smiling widely. Kisa – giggling once more – shrugged her shoulders.

“I might know.”

The two young teens spun around to face the speaker. He was a teen or a man just leaving his teens – that much was obvious from both his looks and his stance – but he was not someone Hiro was familiar with; which meant that he was not a Sohma. But he looked like he could be one, he was very much memorable.

He had hair that was a thick, inky black and curled around his head in a stylish disarray before dropping to his shoulders. His eyes were an unimaginable green, a green so deep and clear that it was not real, and they were concealed behind thin, wire-rimmed glasses. He was dressed so casually it was almost deliberate – in a plain T-shirt, a pair of faded black jeans, and scoffed sneakers – but on his arm was a tattoo of a coiling snake.

Was that a blatant show of rebellion?

And then the stranger tilted his head and Hiro saw that he was also sporting an earring of a silver dragon.

“Who are you,” Hiro demanded rather rudely after he was over his initial shock. He instinctively pulled Kisa behind his back in a show of protection. The stranger blinked at him before looking around as if he had suddenly realized where he was.

“Oh,” he said softly then looked back down at Hiro. “Sorry. I’m Potter, Harrison – Harry for short.”

Hiro blinked at the now obvious foreigner. Kisa let out a little gasp behind his back, taking in the teen’s voice and accent.

“What are you doing here, this is private property,” Hiro continued to demand, staring the teen down. Despite the fact that Hiro was younger he was just about the same height as the stranger and so was in a position to threaten if he needed to.

“Well . . .” the teen drawled, leaning back slightly on his heels. “I got lost. I was coming to visit Momiji.”

His expression held only the slightest show of irritation – whether that was for Hiro’s tone or for that fact that he had gotten lost, Hiro did not know nor did he care. Harry then looked around again before mumbling, “Don’t know how I got here.”

“Momiji-nii’s house is toward the east, you’ve been going to opposite way, nii-san,” Kisa suddenly spoke up, her voice lower than normal in her nervousness. Harry stopped looking around and fixed his eyes on Kisa, who meekly hid behind Hiro.

“Right,” he said, but he didn’t make any move to leave. After another moment of strained silence he spoke again. “How old are you?”

“What does it matter to you,” Hiro demanded when Kisa let out a little squeak of surprise. Harry blinked slowly, shifting his gaze from Kisa to Hiro and back again. He stood there for a moment more before nodding.

“Right, sorry, bye.”

And then he turned to leave.

“W-wait, please!”

Hiro turned around in shock as did Harry, both boys looking at Kisa, who had turned a dark shade of red. She looked down at her feet and shuffled them nervously.

“Ah . . . um . . . you . . . you said something . . . earlier . . .” she whispered into the silence. “A-about . . . knowing . . .” she then gestured vaguely at the swings. Harry smiled and walked back over to them.

“Yes, that’s right,” he told her kindly. “I do sort of know how you did what you just did.”

Kisa’s head snapped up at those words and she stared up at Harry in wonder that made Hiro grit his teeth in irritation.

“Really?” Kisa’s voice was bright and chirpy and filled with a hope Hiro couldn’t understand. Harry chuckled, a deep throaty sound.

“Really. In fact,” he told her. “My mother used to do that when she was little.”

Kisa’s lips pulled into a relieved smile – because no matter how cool it was to fly off the swings, she had been worried that she was weird or stranger than normal – and she turned to look at Hiro, vibrating with excitement.

“Did you hear that Hiro?”

Hiro nodded for her benefit, but his eyes did not move from Harry’s relaxed form. There was something odd about the teen. Kisa then gasped and both boys looked at her in shock once more.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized before bowing at Harry frantically. “So rude of me! I’m sorry.” When she straightened out once more, she beamed at the taller teen. “I’m Sohma, Kisa; it’s nice to meet you!”

Harry continued to stare at her in shock for a while before he began to laugh.

“Wow! You’re like the miniaturized version of Tohru,” he told her. Kisa’s eyes widened and she asked, “You know Nee-chan?”

“‘Course I do,” Harry told her with a bemused expression. “We’re cousins.”

“I wasn’t aware that that idiot had any cousins,” Hiro said rather rudely. Harry blinked and turned to look at him. He stared at the sandy-haired boy before seeming to shrug off the boy’s words, deciding they weren’t meant to be harmful or insulting.

“Yeah, well no one really knew,” he told him. “I’m her cousin from her mother’s side and I’ve been living in England, so . . .” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Whatever,” Hiro said stubbornly. “Now what is this thing you know?”

Harry grinned widely at that and he looked between both kids before saying, rather dramatically, “Its magic.”

Hiro snorted and turned to look at the teen that was clearly insane.

“Magic,” he repeated incrudiously. “As if.” He snorted again and shook his head. “Come on Kisa, let’s go. This guy is obviously insane.”

Kisa, however, did not budge.

“So . . . I can do magic,” she instead was asking Harry.

“Not necessarily,” he told her before suddenly looking around, apparently nervous. “Look, I can’t really talk about something like this out in the open. Someone might hear us and normal people aren’t supposed to know about the Wizarding World.”

Hiro groaned, his temper spiking with his dislike for the teen that was corrupting his Kisa.

“Oh, we can go to my house. Mama went to work really early today and won’t be back for a while,” Kisa offered causing Hiro to sputter.

“W-wha . . . but . . . Kisa! You can’t invite strangers to your house!”

“But, Hiro,” Kisa said in a pleading voice, turning to look at Hiro with large amber eyes. “I just want to know.”

“Fine,” Hiro agreed rather reluctantly, shooting a glare at Harry who just smiled genial back at him. 

* * *

 

When Harry had climbed out of bed early that morning – with the intent and purpose of visiting Akito and gaining some information on the curse – he did not expect to come into contact with a young witch. Yet here he was, sitting in the home of one Kisa Sohma – that name was sparking a dim memory – sipping tea at six in the morning, and it was very good tea.

Harry set the cup down and looked over the table at the two young teens before him. Kisa was looking exceedingly nervous and her friend – Hiro was his name – was still glaring.

“Right, well like I said earlier, you can do magic,” Harry began to explain, throwing caution to the wind and putting it all out into the open. “But . . . well you’re obviously not a kid.” He eyed Kisa with interest, his eyes raking over the girl’s form in a way that Hiro did not approve of. “Anyways . . . I’d call what you just did accidental magic, which would be abnormal but, from what I can tell, you haven’t been taught how to control your magic yet.”

Kisa shook her head and Harry nodded.

“Well that’s even odder. Normally once a witch or wizard turns eleven they are sent to the magical school in the area, so that you can learn to control it – mind you I don’t know where yours is or what the rules there are like. . . ."

“So why wasn’t I sent there?”

Harry shrugged, bringing his cup to his mouth, again.

A rather awkward silence fell over the group and Harry took the moment to think over some things. It didn’t make any sense. Wizards always knew when a magical baby was born, there name was even put down  _before_ they were born, so why wasn’t Kisa schooled. She would have been at least a third year by now, and not doing accidental magic – unless she was extraordinarily powerful, which Harry doubted.

Harry looked at the girl, with her amber eyes that seemed to be rimmed with a golden green and oddly colored orange hair, that looked like it had dark stripes in it. Something was very . . . familiar about the magic surrounding her. It took Harry a moment to realize what he was feeling and then he knew the answer.

“You’re one of the Zodiac, aren’t you.”

Kisa jumped a little, letting out a small squeak of surprise. Harry now remembered Momiji telling him that Kisa and Hiro had been the youngest members of the Zodiac. How stupid of him to forget – no wonder their name had sounded familiar, he had heard it before.

“How the hell do you know that,” Hiro demanded rather loudly. “You’re not supposed to know that! Who told you?”

“No one told me,” Harry told him, motioning for the younger teen to sit down – for he had jumped up in his anger. Once Hiro was seated again Harry looked between the two. “Well that certainly explains things.”

Hiro glared hatefully at Harry, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Explains what,” he spat out venomously through gritted teeth. Kisa shot him a look full of worry and the teen calmed down slightly, just for her sake.

“It explains why you haven’t gotten a letter,” Harry told them patiently. “It’s obvious that Akito doesn’t wish for any of his Zodiac to stray too far from him, am I right?”

Kisa nodded and Harry noticed that she had paled at the mention of Akito. He hummed thoughtfully. Things just kept getting more and more curious.

“Well, I think I have a theory.” He was now looking curiously at Hiro, wondering if he might be right. “I  _think_ that all of you – the Zodiac members that is – can wield magic. It’ll be simple to test.”

“How?”

Harry sighed a little mentally, but answered the boy anyway. He twitched his arm a little, just a slight, non-descript movement, and his wand slide smoothly into his hand from the wand holster on his arm.

“Using this,” he said lifting his weapon so that they could see. Hiro eyed the wand distastefully. “Look, a wand is not just some silly toy or a random piece of wood. It’s a wizard’s instrument. It’s what helps us wield our magic, to construct it into something we can use. And no wand is exactly like the other, they are made special for each witch and wizard,” Harry explained when he caught Hiro’s expression.

“Prove it,” Hiro commanded.

Harry narrowed his eyes before saying, “ _Wingardium Leviosa!_ ” and waving his wand. The cup of warm tea rose up off of the table and floated in the air for a bit before settling back down.

“So you can levitate a cup, big deal,” Hiro scoffed.

Harry arched a brow before turning his wand on the boy. Hiro swallowed thickly, but didn’t let his fear show on his face, like Kisa did.

“ _Rictusempra_!”

Hiro immediately doubled over, tears streaming from his eyes as he laughed in mirth as a tickling sensation come over him. Kisa’s mouth dropped open and she stared at her cousin with wide eyes, at a loss of what to do, and Harry watched with a smug expression. After a moment, he sighed and waved his wand again, whispering, “ _Finite Incantatem_.”

Hiro sat up with a glare on his face. He clearly did not appreciate Harry’s sudden jinx. Harry however, didn’t care. He had been rude and untrusting and so Harry gave him a little just dessert.

“So, do you believe me now?”

“How . . . how did you know? . . .” Kisa asked hesitantly after a moment of strained silence. Harry sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back and bracing himself on his hands before he explained.

“I can actually taste magic and the one that surrounds you Sohmas happens to have a very peculiar taste, like orange squash concentrate. It’s all thick and syrupy kind of sweet but I don’t particularly fancy it much,” he started. “Normal magic just leaves this sort of bitter aftertaste, kind of tangy like . . . grapefruits. So the air around you in particular,” – here Harry gestured at Kisa who blushed – “is like a mixture of both.”

“Well that didn’t sound complicated at all,” Hiro snorted.

“Well in a sense it is complicated, but I’ve learned to live with it.”

“So . . . um . . . how are you going to find out if it’s true or not,” Kisa asked softly.

“Well,” Harry said. “I already know  _you’re_  a witch, but I can test you if you want,” Harry finished, looking at Hiro. He wasn’t all too sure of what the boy’s response would be, but he did expect him to listen to Kisa. And just like he thought, Hiro turned to look questioningly at Kisa, who nodded.

“Alright, I’ll do it,” Hiro tried to say in an offhanded manner, but Harry could see that he was excited and the prospect of doing magic like his somewhat cousin.

“Okay, so all I want you to do is take this,” Harry held out his wand and Hiro took it with a wary look, “and say  _Lumos_.”

“ _Lumos_ ,” Hiro repeated, not feeling all too sure that he was doing it right, so he was very much surprised when the wand tip lit up, like a flashlight. Hiro immediately dropped the wand in shock and the light went out.

“Well,” Harry said, trying not to laugh at Hiro’s reaction. “That proves it. Hiro Sohma, you’re a wizard!”

Hiro blinked and looked up at Harry, for once his expression not hostile or sullen. In that moment he looked exactly like he should, like a kid.

After a few more minutes of talking Harry left, promising to come back and visit the two with more information in two weeks.

“Why not next week,” Hiro had asked as Harry was leaving.

Harry had froze and tensed up.

“It’s nothing. Next week just isn’t a good idea.”

And then Harry had rushed out quickly so that they wouldn’t ask him anymore questions. 

* * *

 

Tohru woke up with a sense of deep foreboding.

It was an early Friday morning and she felt as if something had shifted. For some reason she had a bad feeling about today, like something was going to happen.

Tohru sat in her bed for a moment, going over this feeling before pushing it back when she realized that she needed to get ready for the day. She set out to get dress and then to start breakfast.

Everything was relatively normal.

Kyo came down an hour after her and went out for his normal morning training. Shigure woke up two hours after that and Tohru got him the morning paper. Then Tohru went about waking up Yuki, who she knew wouldn’t get out of bed on his own will.

It took her a moment to notice someone was missing and when she realized this, the missing member showed up.

Harrison stumbled into the room, dressed casually in a beige T-shirt and cargo pants. His hair was messier than usual and he was missing his glasses so he had to squint around the room. Tohru stared at him for a moment, not sure what was wrong before she remember that it was Friday and Harrison wasn’t wearing his uniform.

“Um . . . Harrison,” Tohru called, gaining his attention. He looked over at her and blinked. “We have school today,” she told him kindly, not sure if he had simply forgotten. Harrison blinked again and then looked around before asking, “What’s today’s date?”

“May 1st,” Shigure promptly told him, not looking up from his paper. Tohru watched closely as all the color seemed to drain from Harrison’s face.

“Oh,” he whispered softly, and then he grimaced. “Um . . . I’m not going to school today, Tohru. I don’t feel too good.”

And then he turned around and walked back to his room.

“He looks fine to me,” Kyo muttered lowly after a moment. “Well, whatever. Come on, Tohru. We don’t want to be late.”

Tohru nodded, but she wasn’t too sure if she wanted to go to school today. After all, if something was wrong with Harrison she needed to be here to take care of him.

“Don’t worry, Tohru-kun,” Shigure spoke up, looking at her from over the top of his newspaper. “I’ll keep an eye on him. And if things get bad, I’ll call Tori-kun.”

“Thank you, Shigure-kun,” Tohru thanked him warmly, feeling a bit less worried.

“It’s no problem. You have a nice day at school.”

Tohru nodded and bade Shigure goodbye before following the two Sohma teens out of the house. 

* * *

 

Children’s laughter filled the air despite the fact that it was a school day, and normally Harry would enjoy it – the blissful innocence, the bright smiles, the free laughter – but today he found it to be a little depressing.

Harry watched as a small boy ran into his mother’s arms, and instead of seeing him, he saw the image of a teary eyed baby with turquoise eyes. Harry shook his head, and with it, the tears that had started to cloud his eyes.

This was a horrible day; he knew that – it had been a horrible day since six years ago. But it hadn’t been a horrible day before that . . . had it.

Thoughtful now, Harry tired to remember what he was doing on this day seven years ago.

. . . Watching Dumbledore die . . . okay . . . eight years ago?

. . . Having horrible dreams about Voldemort and being tortured by both Snape and Umbitch. . . .

Harry cursed softly and tried to think further back before he realized that ever since he entered the Wizarding world May 1st had not been a good day, and let’s face it, every day before that was a bad day.

Now feeling annoyed on top of depressed, Harry turned away from the park and walked toward the city.

Maybe he could try to recreate the third anniversary without the horrible side effect. 

* * *

 

It was raining and that did nothing for Harry’s already sour mood.

It was bloody raining and he wanted it to stop.

He just wanted everything to stop, to stop and rewind so that he could do it all over again. Change everything so that everyone was happier and everything was better.

“Harry?”

And now he wanted to curse.

Of all the bloody parks in all of Japan Cho Chang just _had_ to have picked the one he was at. And she just  _had_  to be at the same park on the same day in the bloody rain.

No, she couldn’t be like normal girls and stay inside when it rained.

“What do you want, Cho,” Harry demanded rather rudely, the five bottles of Firewhiskey he had already downed making his words slur together. He heard Cho hesitate for a moment before continuing her approach.

“Harry? Are you okay,” she questioned softly, coming to sit down beside him on the wet ground. She leaned forward to peer curiously into his face, which was a mask of anger. “Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m not bloody drunk,” Harry replied scathingly, throwing the girl a dirty glare. He then picked up another bottle of the magical alcohol and tipped it back. Yet the added alcohol did nothing to fog his mind like he wanted it to.

“Harry, what’s wrong?”

Harry dropped the half full bottle and growled.

“What’s wrong! What’s  _wrong_ ,” he repeated, jumping to his feet, the bottle still in hand. “I’ll tell you what’s  _wrong_. Every damn thing! The trees, the sky, the bloody  _earth_! That’s ‘what’s _wrong_ ’!”

Lightning flashed in the dark sky, as if it wanted to accent Harry’s words. And in that moment of illumination, Harry saw real fear flash across Cho’s face.

“Harry,” she whispered. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Harry told her, sounding like a petulant child.

“Please,” Cho pleaded.

Harry didn’t look at her. He took another gulp of the Firewhiskey, loving the way it burned on the way down.

“ _Please_.”

“I see them all the time,” Harry told her after a long moment of strained silence. “No matter where I go, they follow. I see them on the streets, in the stores, in my  _dreams_. They haunt me, blaming me, all the time, you know.”

Harry took another burning gulp of the amber liquid before staring blankly down at the – now empty – bottle. Faces seemed to swim in the glass and a moment of rage swelled inside of Harry. He lifted his arm and threw the bottle down with enough force that it smashed into glittering pieces against the concrete.

Yet that didn’t make him feel any better.

“Every bloody day, I wake up screaming. Every bloody week it’s the same nightmares. Yes, the damn war is over, yet I see them die over and over again.” Harry picked up another empty bottle and threw it down, watching it shatter. “Over . . . and over . . . and over . . . and over again,” he grounded out. And each time he said ‘over’, he smashed a bottle.

Cho watched him rage in silence, not knowing what to do, not knowing how to reach out to him. Harry seemed lost to the world, drifting along in a sea that no one else knew about. His pain was a pain no one could hope to image.

“I visit the graveyard ever Monday, and on Tuesday it’s the Ministry, Wednesday: the Astronomy Tower, Thursday: the graveyard again, Friday: Hogwarts, Saturday: the Astronomy Tower, Sunday: any of the four, and then it starts all over again. Day after day, week after week, I watch as they are killed one by one. I see it all the time, even deaths I didn’t actually witness. The names, the faces, everywhere I go. I can’t close my eyes without fearing that they’ll appear again. They just won’t leave me ALONE!”

It was silent after Harry’s rant, the storm continuing to rage, the lightning continuing to flash.

Cho watched as slowly, all the energy seemed to fade out of Harry. He sank down to his knees and then sat down and reached for another bottle of Firewhiskey. She watched as he popped the cap and then tipped the entire bottle back. And she watched as the man tried to drown his misery in alcohol.

She just watched, because there was nothing to do. She thought she could help, but that was something way above her, something out of her reach.

Harry had lived the life of a man three times his age, seen what someone who had lived a thousand year might have seen, and experienced an immortal’s pain.

She could not dare reach him where he was, not even if she lived three times over. Even though she was sitting right next to him, she felt as if he were far away, lost across the ocean. And even though she was so close to him, she had never seen a person look so lonely.

“Cho, could you . . . could you just leave me alone.”

Cho nodded slowly before standing and walking away, because she knew she could not help. No one seemed to be able to help. 

* * *

 

Kagura Sohma waved goodbye to her friends at the train station, a smile plastered on her face. When they turned away she frowned and sighed. She did not know when next she would be seeing her high school friends. With Akito as he was now, it was hard to determine anything that might happen in the future.

Kagura turned away with another sigh and headed for the Sohma compound. As she did, she thought about all the things that had happened in the past year: meeting Tohru, seeing Kyo again, the drama with Rin, and then her revelation to Kyo.

Thinking about Kyo made her sigh again. She hadn’t seen her orange-haired love in over two months. Not since she realized how deeply in love he was with Tohru. And she hadn’t seen Tohru in twice as long.

It was cowardly to think about it, but it was plain to see that she was avoiding the girl, with obvious reasons. It was a shame really, because she had heard from Haru that Tohru had a cousin visiting and he supposedly knew the family secret.

Kagura wanted to meet this mystery cousin, but with Tohru – and Kyo – around, that wasn’t likely. It really was a shame. This cousin of Tohru’s was supposedly a secret cousin, from what Haru had told her. The guy was Tohru’s cousin on her mother side.

Kagura wondered what the guy was like.

An enigma, that’s what Haru had called him, someone more mysterious, and with more to hide that them – the Sohma’s with the lifelong family curse.

Yup, she really wanted to meet this guy.

Kagura’s thoughts were soon disrupted by a loud screech.

Her head shot up and she looked around to find the source of the sound.

And that was when she saw the motorcycle.

It was sliding out of control, its wheels spinning rapidly as the driver pushed down on the brakes, but the wheels found no purchase on the wet street. The motorcycle crashed into the street pole, throwing the cyclist off its back. The man went down, rolling a few times on the wet concrete before coming to a stop some five feet away from his ride.

There seemed to be a pause in time in which Kagura just stood there stupidly, not moving, and then things sped up. Kagura rushed to the man’s side, dropping to her knees so that she could look at him. There was no one else around, so she’d have to be the one to call for help if the guy was injured.

The idiot wasn’t even wearing any protective gear.

His eyes were closed and his face was pale, and his dark hair only seemed to make him seem even paler. He was breathing evenly, almost like he was sleeping, and the only thing that seemed to be wrong was that his clothes were a little torn, and there was a dark mark curling up his arm – on closer inspection, Kagura realized it was a tattoo of a snake.

Kagura bit her lip as she reached out hesitantly to probe him.

The man groaned and Kagura sighed in relief, glad he was conscious and not dead. That would have been very bad.

“ _Oi! Oi, dai jo bu desu ka_? Are you okay?”

The man groaned again before rolling over so that he was lying on his tattered back.

“I feel like hell,” he told her, throwing his arm over his face. Kagura blinked and sat back, shocked. He wasn’t Japanese, a foreigner from his thick accent, and a very cute and sexy thick accent at that.

“Um . . . can you stand?”

The man nodded and with another groan slowly sat up. It was then that Kagura noticed that he was bleeding. It looked like he took the damage on his back. The back of his long-sleeved black and white striped shirt was torn and colored red.

“You’re hurt,” she told him.

The guy shrugged and then blinked his eyes open. Kagura was shocked again. His eyes were an impossible emerald green. The guy, probably the same age she was, squinted at her before looking around.

“Have you seen my glasses?”

Kagura stared at him for a moment longer before she realized he had asked a question. She jumped to her feet and started to look around.

“Oh . . . um . . . are these it,” she asked timidly when she found a crushed piece of metal under the wheel of the motorcycle. She dropped the twisted metal in the guy’s hand and he squinted at it before letting out a soft groan.

“Yup, that’s it,” he mumbled slowly, before standing up. He stretched his arms above his head – Kagura heard some bones pop – before wincing.

“You should probably see a doctor,” Kagura suggested.

“Thanks,” he replied back rather dryly. Kagura didn’t notice. She shifted on the spot for a bit, not quite sure what to do when a sudden idea hit her.

“Hey, my house isn’t too far from here and my cousin’s a doctor.”

The strange teen turned to look in her general direction. He blinked a few times, seemed to think about her offer before shrugging.

“Sure, why not.”

Kagura grinned.

“Great! I’m Kagura by the way. Sohma, Kagura.”

“Potter, Harrison,” the teen intoned now looking at her with a weird expression. “It’s nice to meet you, Kagura.” 

* * *

 

“What the hell,” Isuzu Sohma yelled when she first stepped foot into the living room.

It had been a while since she had last been in Kagura’s house, and the only reason she was there now, was so that she could retrieve some of her stuff. However her plan of getting a few things and then retreating to Kazuma’s house – which was luckily outside of the Sohma estate – was driven from her mind when she saw the form lying on the couch.

Kagura looked up from her place on the floor in front of the couch and surprise flitting across her face before she shot her so far missing cousin a glare.

“Sh,” she shushed, holding her finger up to her lips. “He’s sleeping.” She then pointed helpfully at the unknown teen laying down on the couch behind her.

Isuzu looked from her cousin to the stranger – who was supporting a curious tattoo of a green snake on his arm – and back again, not understanding. Then after a moment, the situation suddenly came to her.

“Who the hell is this?”

Kagura glared at her again before standing up. Isuzu followed her into the kitchen, where her brown-haired cousin shut the door. “Well,” Isuzu demanded when Kagura had yet to answer.

“He said his name was Harrison.”

Isuzu waited but Kagura offered no more information.

“Okay,” she drawled, “And what is he doing here?”

“Well, he crashed his bike a few blocks from here and was badly injured. And he couldn’t see and he looked kind of drunk so I brought him here.”

Isuzu stared, and stared, and after a moment Kagura grew uncomfortable of the steely eyed gaze and looked down at her socks.

“So in others words, you have no clue who he is,” Isuzu finally asked. Kagura lifted her shoulders in a shrug. Isuzu stared at her again. She was seriously starting to wonder if there was something mentally wrong with her family. “Okay, and what, exactly, were you going to do when Akito found out about this?”

Kagura winced at these words.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she mumbled quietly, still looking at the floor.

“Of course you didn’t,” Isuzu hissed venomously, throwing her hands up. She then pointed at Kagura as she said, “You never think about things. You just do whatever you damn well please and think everything will just be perfectly fine.”

“Well, ex _cuse_ me,” Kagura started to shout back, lifting her gaze so that she could glare back in defense. “At least I’m not the one running around on some wild goose chase trying to find something that  _doesn’t exist_!”

Isuzu reeled back as if she had been slapped. And then she fixed her expression so that her glare was enough to make hell boil over.

“Don’t you  _dare_  talk about what you don’t know. You have no idea what I’ve been through. So, don’t you  _dare_  assume that I’m on some wild goose chase. At least  _I_  haven’t been shallow enough to use someone else for my own selfish needs.” Now Kagura took as step back, wincing as if Isuzu’s words had caused her physical harm.

The two girls stood there for a while, breathing heavily as they glared each other down, before Kagura suddenly realized something.

“Where were you,” she questioned softly, taking in the fact that Isuzu’s hair was short, really short. People didn’t get their hair cut at hospitals . . . right?

“That’s none of your damn business,” Isuzu hissed, her eyes narrowing into thin slits. Kagura rocked back on her heels and bit her lip, contemplating what to say, trying to phrase her words so that they didn’t have Isuzu’s back up.

“Everyone’s been worried. Even Shigure’s concerned, though he doesn’t show it. . . . No one knew where to find you.”

Isuzu didn’t say anything . . . couldn’t say anything. She didn’t want to tell Kagura of all people about what Akito had done to her.

She didn’t want to relive those days in that dark, dark room.

An awkward kind of silence filled the kitchen then, neither girl knew what to say to each other. And then there was a groan from the other room. The two cousins remained frozen as they both listened in on the other room. They could hear someone speaking and then there was a loud crack – like the firing of a gun. Kagura blinked and turned to look at the door curiously. Isuzu beat her to it, and the short-haired girl threw the door open at the sound of another crack.

Harrison was sitting up on the couch and looking around through squinted green eyes. He looked over at them – or in their direction for he was really staring at the wall – when he heard the door open and he offered the two girls a sheepish smile.

“Morning,” he greeted rather cheerfully.

“Good morning,” Kagura called back, sliding past Isuzu who had frozen upon hearing Harrison speak. It seemed she wasn’t the only one affected by the rich foreign accent. “Are you up for a visit to the doctor?”

“Yeah, sure,” Harrison said on a sigh. He then rubbed at his eyes before letting out a soft groan. “Can’t see a damn thing,” he explained at Kagura’s questioning look.

“Oh . . . well how do you feel?”

“I still feel like hell,” he told her with a humorless laugh. “But I suppose that’s what I get for riding a motorcycle while dead drunk.” As he said this a wistful sort of smile came upon his face.

“Who the hell are you,” Isuzu demanded when she finally found her voice, cutting off whatever response Kagura had been about to give. Harrison turned to look at her curiously through squinted eyes.

“Sorry,” he then apologized, not seeing the exasperated look that had come upon Kagura’s face when Isuzu had spoken. “I’m Potter, Harrison.” He then held out his hand, but it was ignored when Isuzu crossed her arms.

“Yeah, I got as much,” Isuzu shot back scathingly.

Kagura rolled her eyes and shook her head before saying, “Ignore her, Harrison. That’s my cousin, Isuzu, but we all call her Rin.”

“Oh,” he intoned softly, still staring at Rin with a curiosity that some might have called questionable. Then he blinked and looked over at Kagura. “You know, you can just call me Harry. Harrison is a bit of a mouthful.”

Kagura nodded.

“Well, Harry” – she beamed when Harry nodded in acceptance – “I called my cousin last night and he said he’d be by here around noon, which should be any minute now.”

Harry nodded and gave her a smile that had her blushing to her roots.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to go through the trouble.”

This only made Kagura blush even more. Rin rolled her eyes before moving closer to the couch so that she could gain Harry’s full attention once more.

“Where are you from,” she demanded, determined to get some information from the stranger. Harry blinked owlishly, even going so far as the tilt his head a little.

“Well, I thought it’d be a little bit obvious,” he told her in an amused tone. Rin expression didn’t lighten even a tiny bit. “Um . . . okay . . .” Harry threw Kagura a questioning look as he answered Rin’s question.

“Well, I’m from England if that’s what you want to know. But I’m here visiting my cousin. You might know her actually, seeing as you’re Sohmas.”

This bit of news came as a surprise for the two girls, but before they could get more information, the doorbell rang. Kagura got up and disappeared around the corner, returning moments later with Hatori.

“Oh, it’s you again,” Harry said in a bored tone when the man walked into the room. He yawned and looked down at his nails as he said, “So, not only do you erase people’s memories you’re also the family doctor. From one boring job to another, huh?”

Hatori sighed and Rin and Kagura shot each other looks of surprise and confusion.

“I see someone is still overly cocky,” Hatori commented, setting down his bag next to Harry’s prone form. “Once again you have proven me wrong.”

“And what would that be this time,” Harry asked in a conversationally tone as he pulled his shirt over his head and turned his back to Hatori. Hatori took in the damaged with a practiced eye and was surprised to see how serious it was. Any normal person would be in pain – serious pain – and complaining about it at the moment, but he was coming to find that Harrison Potter was obviously not a normal person.

“How did this happen,” he asked instead of answering Harry’s question.

“I crashed my motorcycle,” Harry told him, his tone still conversational, as if crashing his motorcycle was a normal thing. And then he added in an oddly gleeful tone, “I was absolutely smashed!”

“You were drunk? How’d you get drunk,” Hatori asked, his surprise evident in his tone. Kagura and Rin were wondering the same thing. Harry was most likely their age, which meant he wasn’t legal.

“Well you see, when a person drinks ten large bottles of hard liquor, they tend to get very much intoxicated.” Harry’s tone was sarcastic, and he rolled his eyes for added measure.

“Ten bottles,” Kagura spluttered. Harry shrugged.

“Yeah, it was only ten. A few years ago I had about twice as much, but no matter how much I drink I can never not think.” Harry’s tone turned bitter at the end and he drifted into silence with a scowl on his face.

Hatori didn’t say anything. He was in too much shock. What sane person would let someone younger than fifteen drink twenty bottles of hard liquor?

“Are you done yet,” Harry’s questioned jarred Hatori out of his shock and he slowly got to his feet.

“Yes, I’m done. Your back should be fine in about a week.”

“Thanks.”

Hatori nodded and started packing his things up, but was distracted when Harry turned around. Hatori had never seen a scar like the one on the young teen’s chest. It was a perfect oval shape marked out in Harry’s skin, right above his heart.

“By the way, how’s my dear friend Akito these days?”

Harry’s voice brought Hatori out of his stupor and he looked up at the teen’s face, surprise evident on his face.

“He’s fine . . . why?”

Harry lifted his shoulders and dropped then in a shrug.

“No reason,” he told the older man, going back to examining his nails. “You just seem a little tired, so I thought maybe you were working after hours or something.” Harry then looked up and sent Hatori a smile that had his skin crawling.

“Well . . . you shouldn’t do anything strenuous until next Saturday. I’ll be sure to let Tohru-kun know.”

A panicked look danced across Harry’s face at Hatori’s words.

“Now, now,” he objected, sitting up a little straighter. “There’s no need to do that. Tohru will be worried enough as it is.” Hatori arched a brow questioningly. “Look, I’ll tell her, okay?”

Hatori frowned before nodding, and then he bade Kagura and Rin goodbye before leaving. Harry sighed once he was gone.

“So . . . you’re Tohru-kun’s mystery cousin,” Kagura asked in a quiet voice, now staring at Harry with an expression of high interest. He shrugged squinting over at her curiously.

“I take it I’ve been the talk of the compound,” he said dryly.

“Yeah, well we Sohmas tend to not have much to gossip about,” Kagura told him. Harry hummed then turned to squint over at Rin, who was now standing by the back door.

“I should probably get home,” he told Kagura, still looking at Rin’s lean form. Kagura felt an irrational skit of jealousy which she tried not to identify. “But I can’t get there like this. I can barely see a foot in front of me.”

Kagura then let out a strangled sound and Harry turned to look back at her with his piercing green eyes.

“I’ll take you there,” Rin offered when Kagura didn’t immediately volunteer. Harry looked over at her, surprise – she didn’t exactly welcome her with a bright smile or anything like that – but she wasn’t looking at him, she was still looking out at the backyard.

“Um . . . sure.”

“Your bike is out front,” Kagura intoned softly, looking down so that Harry couldn’t see her expression, which at the moment was one of reluctant happiness. But Harry wouldn’t understand that – he wouldn’t understand that she did not want to go anywhere near Shigure’s house and Tohru Honda.

“Thanks.”

Harry’s thank you was just as soft as hers. 

* * *

 

“So . . .” Harry trailed off awkwardly as he walked next to the aloof Rin Sohma.

He was trying to get a read on her but couldn’t really think all too far around his pounding headache. The hangover potion that Kreacher had given him had not helped at all. He supposed the potion wasn’t strong enough for a person who went over the normal four bottles of Firewhiskey. Harry sighed; he supposed that was what he got for trying to get unreasonably drunk . . . again.

“How’d you find out about the curse,” Rin suddenly asked; her tone was so impassive that all Harry did was shrug.

“I just knew,” he told her. He wasn’t all too sure about his theory yet, and until he could prove it was one-hundred percent, he was not going to risk giving out too much information. Kisa and Hiro knowing was already two too many.

“You just knew,” Rin repeated skeptically. Harry shrugged and then squinted over at her. He could just barely make out her lean form, and he could tell that she was definitely a . . . beauty type. She was tall and sculpted perfectly, but since he couldn’t really make out her face yet, he was going to wait to give her his full observation.

“So . . . um . . . I heard your conversation from earlier.”

Rin looked round at him sharply, but Harry didn’t meet her gaze as he continued to speak.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop . . . you were kind of loud – but . . . um . . .” Harry trailed off for a moment and used his freehand to scratch the back of his head. When his motorcycle wobbled unsteadily, he placed it back and settled for staring at the bruised machine.

“I was talking to Tohru,” he started again and he could feel Rin’s gaze boring a hole into his head. He was suddenly very glad he couldn’t see because he was pretty sure she was glaring at him – if the intensity of her gaze was anything to go by. “And she mentioned something . . . about the curse and —”

“Look, it’s none of your business,” Rin cut across harshly. “This has nothing to do with you. You’re even more of an outsider to this than Tohru is, so just butt out.”

Harry blinked but decided it would be best not to bring up the subject again. He knew everyone had something they didn’t want to talk about with others, and this was obviously it for Rin.

“So . . . um . . . how old are you,” he instead asked in a very pathetic attempt at small talk. He could barely make out when Rin turned to look at him and he could only guess that she was doing so out of curiosity.

“How old are  _you_ ,” Rin asked instead. Harry laughed once humorlessly before he answered.

“Twenty-two, I turn twenty-three in a few months.” Harry heard Rin’s steps falter and he turned to look in her general direction. “What?”

“You’re  _twenty-two_ ,” she all but yelled and Harry imaged her expression to be incrudious.

“Well yeah,” he said, lifting and dropping his shoulders in a casual shrug. “How old did you think I was?” There was a pause and Harry really wished he could see what Rin looked like so he could have a guess at what she might be thinking.

“Well,” she said softly and Harry could almost hear a blush in her voice. “. . . to put it quite bluntly, you look barely seventeen.”

Harry blinked before sighing.

“Well that’s a comfort,” he muttered lowly. “I barely look of age.” Then he shook his head. “I guess it’s a good thing that I’m gay. I don’t have to worry over whether my date is taller than me or not.”

“You’re gay,” Rin asked and she sounded curious.

“Yeah.” Harry’s tone was casual, but then he grinned a grin that spoke of mischief. “It makes Yuki and Kyo absolutely uncomfortable. It’s fun to watch.” He then laughed and to his surprise, Rin laughed with him. The rest of the walk to Shigure’s from then on was really relaxed after that. 

* * *

 

“Harrison,” Tohru immediately cried when she opened the door to let him it. She threw herself into his arms in a way that was sure to rival Hermione, and hugged him tightly. “I was so _worried_. I thought you were sick and then Shigure-kun said you went out. But then it started raining and you never came back and —”

“Whoa, whoa, Tohru,” Harry told her, pushing her back a bit so that he could see the blurry outline of her face. He narrowed his eyes into a squint and her image swam into view for that moment so that he could see the worry line creasing her brow. “Calm down. I’m fine.”

Beside him Rin snorted and that was when Tohru seemed to notice her. She blinked a few times and then beamed at the taller girl.

“Isuzu-san,” she greeted in surprise – she had been told that the girl was in the hospital – and then she tilted her head to the side curiously. Rin gave her a standoffish kind of look before noticing Tohru’s gaze and she raised her hand to her short hair.

“It was always getting in the way,” she told the girl in a casual tone, but Harry could hear an underlining of bitterness and he wondered if his cousin could too, but Tohru just nodded and lead the two inside.

“What brings you over here, Isuzu-san,” she asked curiously as the trio made their way into the house. “And are you okay? I heard that you were in the hospital. I hope you’re feeling better.” Tohru then let out a tiny gasp and spun around to face Rin. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come and visit you. I wanted to but I couldn’t figure out which hospital —”

Rin narrowed her eyes and Tohru immediately cut off, but her frantic expression did not disappear so Rin offered her an answer.

“Harry can’t see two feet in front of him, so I offered to bring him over here safely.”

Tohru then seemed to notice the absence of Harry’s glasses and when she questioned him on this he just shrugged in a careless manner.

“Oh . . . well they got crushed when I crashed my motorcycle yesterday,” he told her as he tried to navigate his way toward him room. He was hoping he could somehow repair his glasses in there without raising too much suspicion.

“You _what_ ,” Tohru practically screeched after she made a rather dramatic gasp. She didn’t even know Harry had a motorcycle, much less that he could drive one.

“I crashed my bike. Turns out I had a little bit too much to drink than I thought.”

This only proved to pull another gasp from Tohru – drinking and driving – who then began to fret over him like an anxious mother hen.

“Tohru, calm down,” he told her on a chuckle. “Like I said before, I’m fine. I just need to get my spare glasses from my room.” Harry could already sense Tohru’s frown so he added, “But I could use some tea,” just to preoccupy her.

“Right,” Tohru said with a nod, and Harry could almost see that adorable determined look that would come over her face.

She then turned to Rin and, using that as a distraction, Harry slipped away from the two girls and headed for his room, closing and locking the door behind him. He then fished out his broken glasses and placed then on the cot he used for a bed. With a muttered, “ _Reparo_ ,” and a flourish of the wand he always had tucked into the invisible wand holder on his arm, the glasses were as good as new and Harry slipped them on with a sigh of relief. 

* * *

 

“Ah! Tori-san, what a wonderful surprise,” Shigure greeted the man before him with open arms and a bright smile that Hatori immediately distrusted. Knowing that Hatori would not respond to his warm welcome, Shigure turned to the other man standing in his doorway. “Aya!”

“Gure,” Ayame greeted back, moving forward with a flourish, his long coat flowing behind him like something one would see in a movie. “Oh how the days have been long since I last saw your glorious face. I have been missing your wondrous presence so!”

“As have I Aya, it has been entirely too long. My bed has grown cold without your warmth and —”

“Would the two of you shut up,” Hatori grounded out, his annoyance with his two companions spiking quickly despite the fact that he had only been standing in the doorway for less than a minute.

The two rather flamboyant men both adopted hurt expressions, but Hatori ignored them. He could already feel a headache blooming between his eyes.

“Shigure we have both come over to discuss your . . . newest house guest.”

Shigure blinked, obviously not expecting that, but he let the two in and they settled down in the living rom.

It was Monday, so all the teens were out of the house, at school – which made it the perfect time to discuss any of the four teens living there.

“So . . .” Shigure said once he was spread out comfortably on the couch. The book he had been reading lay forgotten on the table, the binding bending as the book was laid page down on the shiny face. Hatori looked over at the title and grimaced as he settled down in the chair by the back shoji doors.

“Well,” Ayame drawled uncertainly, looking over at Hatori for help as he wasn’t sure how to start.

“We’ve notice that there are some . . . odd things about Harrison or at least the things he does and says, and we were wondering —”

“If I noticed anything strange also,” Shigure finished with a knowing nod – it was just like Hatori to pick out a person’s odd quirks and hold a Mabudachi Trio meeting about it, even though he didn’t really believe in the group.

Shigure lifted his hand and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Well, beside the fact that he didn’t seem at all surprised when he found out about the curse – I’d have to say no. He seems completely normal if not a bit adult for his age.”

Hatori nodded his agreement with Shigure’s last statement.

‘Well . . . I have to admit that is weird. And then there’s the fact that I couldn’t erase his memories. Something like that has never happened before.”

“But he knew you wouldn’t be able to erase them, didn’t he,” Ayame piped up.

“That is true.” Hatori sighed and pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and put it in his mouth.

“And he kind of hinted that he was famous to me the other day,” Ayame added in. “So maybe he’s some kind of celebrity back home. He does seem a bit familiar.”

Hatori rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“I doubt he is Ayame. That’s a bit far-fetched.”

The room was thrown into silence for a bit, the three men content in just being in each other’s company. It was only times like these, in the rare silences, that Hatori could really relate to his supposed best friends.

“How’s Akito,” Shigure suddenly asked, breaking the peaceful atmosphere. Hatori sighed and flew out a puff of smoke.

“She’s fine . . . why?”

“No reason,” Shigure said and Hatori was overcome with a strong sense of déjà-vu. He blinked and sat up straighter.

“I don’t believe you,” he told his cousin in a slightly suspicious tone, his eyes narrowed slightly. Shigure pouted before relenting.

“I just wanted to know how she was handling Harrison’s visit.”

“. . . it was after that.”

“What was after what,” Ayame asked, looking over at Shigure with a confused expression. “Tori-kun,” he then called when Hatori didn’t answer at first.

“I think Harrison did or said something to Akito,” Hatori suddenly confessed.

“What?”

Shigure was now looking at Hatori as if he was crazy. Surely no one in their right mind would ever do anything to Akito. Even thought their head was sickly, she was very strong and she had a presence that made even the most headstrong person quiver in fear.

“Well . . . she hasn’t been the same after his visit. She’s been angrier lately and her condition has been getting worse.”

“Okay, but what did he do?” 

* * *

 

Harry whistled a song he was pretty sure was from the Weird Sisters under he his breath as he walked down the stone walkway. It was a nice spring day – the dry air hinting at summer – and here he was, walking toward the Sohma main house. Harry shook his head wondering if he was insane.

“Excuse me.”

Harry paused and turned around to face the man who had called out to him. He was tall, but then again most men were taller than Harry, and he had rusty brown hair. Harry could taste grapefruits and it was only because of this that he eyed the man curiously.

“Yes?”

 Surprise flashed across his face before he seemed to stomp it down.

“Why are you here? You’re not a Sohma.”

Harry blinked and then turned to face the man fully. He could still taste grapefruits, but this man couldn’t be a wizard – he would have recognized Harry if he was.

“No,” Harry said slowly. “I’m not a Sohma. I’m Potter, Harrison.”

The man blinked and recognization flashed across his face. Harry almost groaned, but he noticed that the man’s eyes – a murky brown – did not flash to his scar, like most wizards’ did.

“I’m Sohma, Kureno, one of the Zodiac.”

“But you can’t be,” Harry blurted out before he could control himself.

“What,” Kureno asked on a gasp of breath. Harry looked away, hoping some kind of excuse would fall from the sky and save him. None came and it was with great reluctance that he motioned for Kureno to follow him. The man didn’t move.

“Look,” Harry said, annoyance seeping in at what he was about to do. “I’ll explain but I can’t do it out in the open so . . .” Harry motioned toward a coverage of trees but Kureno frowned and shook his head.

“We can go to my courters.”

He then turned and walked away and after a moment’s debate Harry followed.

The walk to Kureno’s courters was done in a strained silence and Harry used it to try and think of an easy way to let Kureno know he was a wizard. How did one break that sort of news to a twenty-something man?

“Here we are.”

Harry’s thoughts were interrupted by Kureno’s low voice and he looked up.

The room he was in was very much normal. There was a desk in one corner – overflowing with papers – a bed sat in another corner and there was a TV. There were a few articles of clothes spilling from the closet but other than that the room was fairly clean. The only personalized thing was a picture of a small family hanging on the wall. Harry recognized Kureno as the young child in it.

“Would you care for something to drink? Tea?” Kureno offered and at Harry’s nod he set about making it. Harry walked around the room while the man was gone and by the time Kureno returned, Harry was seated at his desk.

“I suppose I should just get to the point,” Harry said after taking an experimental taste of the tea. Deeming it decent he set it aside and fixed Kureno – who was leaning against the wall adjacent to the desk – with a serious look.

“You’re a wizard.”

Kureno blinked once but didn’t show any other sign of his surprise at Harry’s statement.

“And what makes you say that,” he asked after a moment of rather tense silence on Harry’s part. Harry sighed. He never liked explaining how he could sense a person’s magic.

“Well, I can taste the magic around you, and there’s the fact that you claim to be a cursed member.” Here Harry arched a brow, waiting for an explanation. Kureno didn’t offer one, he just looked thoughtful.

“So . . . I can do magic?”

“Essentially,” Harry told him offhandedly. “Weird stuff probably happened around you a lot when you were younger.”

“What does me being a curse member have to do with it,” Kureno rushed to ask. He sounded a little bit anxious.

“Well, I have a theory and so far it seems pretty much sound.” Kureno nodded for him to go one and Harry did so. “I figure that all Zodiac members can do magic. That’s probably how the curse picks its host – based on magical potential.”

“If that’s what you think then why didn’t you believe me when I said I was a curse member,” Kureno then asked.

Harry hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t one for calling people out on their secrets, and it was obvious Kureno was keeping this a secret.

“Well . . . it’s like how I can taste your magic. With the members I met I can taste their magic and their curse, with you it’s just the magic. So . . .”

Kureno sighed and set his tea, which he had been slowly drinking, aside.

“My curse broke,” he confessed. Both of Harry’s brows rose.

“I see,” he said thoughtfully. “And does Tohru know about this?”

Kureno hesitated for a moment before nodding. Now Harry was confused. If Tohru knew then why did she think there was no way breaking the curse?

“I don’t know how it happened though. It just . . . went away.”

Harry opened his mouth to ask Kureno for more information, but then he changed his mind. The Sohma family dynamics weren’t his problem and he wouldn’t meddle in their business. He was simply here for Tohru.

“Can I get rid of the curse if I can learn to do magic,” Kureno suddenly asked, breaking through Harry’s thoughts. The Savior shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know. You probably can’t.” Kureno looked down at the floor at this bit of news and Harry felt bad for crushing his resolve. “But . . . I can take you to a shop and you can find some books on it there and get a wand,” he amended. Kureno looked up and smiled.

“That would be wonderful, but I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“It’d be no trouble at all. I was planning to take Kisa and Hiro anyways, so you can just tag along.” The red-head nodded. “Good. Meet me at West Sohma Park in three days. We’ll hash out the details there. Six A.M. sharp. I don’t want anyone eavesdropping.”

When he got another nodded Harry smiled and then bade Kureno goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone asks, Harry is not an alcoholic! He’s only done this once before and that was three years previously and there were consequences. And he won’t do this ever again, he just really need it right then. Also, I couldn't help giving Kisa Lily's trick. It's Kisa!


	5. Homecoming and Newspapers

Akito was sick of just about everything.

She was sick of the sun with its annoyingly bright rays of light. She was sick of the birds with their chirping. She was sick of people always talking and falling in love and trying to do whatever they wanted.

She was tired of everything.

And she hated it all, but most of all she hated that monster Tohru Honda and her stupid cousin.

Akito sighed and rolled over on her bed, burying her face into her pillow.

No.

That wasn’t true.

If she was being honest with herself, the truth was – she envied Tohru. She envied that girl’s likability. It wasn’t fair that that stupid girl could be so well liked. There was nothing special about her.

But that wasn’t completely true either.

But damn it, that didn’t make Akito like her any more.

That meddlesome girl was still trying to steal her zodiac, trying to steal all those loyal to Akito. Yuki never questioned her before, never dared to make bold statements. Kyo never tried to act against her. Even Shigure was somewhat different.

And then there was that girl’s infuriating cousin. Acting so bold and thinking he could just walk in and change everything. So what if he looked entrancing? So what if he had a charming accent? So what if he had the most captivating eyes ever – eyes that seemed to tell a story no one else could decipher. So what if he —?

“Hullo!”

Akito jerked upward at the cheerful sound that had dared to interrupt her peace. With a heated glare set firmly in place, she turned toward the outer door where the new bane of her existence was standing, grinning cheerfully as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“What are you doing here? Who let you in?”

Harrison Potter shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and strolled casually into the room, looking around as if he had never seen the likes of this place before. Finally those luminous emeralds landed on Akito’s figure.

“You look like hell,” he told her. Akito’s glare only intensified. “Well, whatever. Anyways, I came to visit you and to . . . talk to you about some things I heard, but then I ran into Kureno Sohma . . .” he trailed off and looked meaningfully at Akito, and a spike of fear tripped down her spine.

He couldn’t know, he couldn’t possibly know.

“Yeah, I found something rather . . . interesting about him. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

Yes, he did know.

“How?”

He shrugged and offered no answer, and to be truthful, Akito wasn’t expecting any answer. Harrison didn’t seem like the type to give out explanations. Akito watched silently as he moved around the room, before sitting himself down on the edge of her bed.

“What I want,” he finally said, tilting his head up so that he could pierce her with those luminous eyes, “Is to hear your story.”

Akito blinked and uncoiled herself.

“What?”

That wasn’t what she had expected him to say. Harrison’s lips curled upward into a coy smirk as he repeated himself.

“I want to hear your side of the story. What is it that makes you who you are?”

Now Akito was glaring down at him. Who was he to demand an explanation?

“Well?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Akito hissed, but the venom in her voice seemed to have no effect on him. He simply tilted his head to the side, amusement shinning in his eyes and he stated – rather cockily, “Oh, but I think you want to.”

For a long moment the two were at an impasse, Akito glaring and Harrison staring back pleasantly. Akito was the first to fold and she did so by crossing her arms and turning away from him like some petulant child. Harrison chuckled lowly – deep and seductive. Akito wondered if the boy knew what that kind of laugh did to people.

“What exactly do you want?” This question seemed to surprise him, but only for a moment.

“From you? Nothing,” he answered honestly – too honestly – with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Then why are you doing this,” Akito demanded. Whatever good mood Harrison seemed to have, seemed to vanished completely at this question. He turned away from Akito and looked blankly over at the shoji doors. For a while he didn’t answer, he just stared out at the chirping birds and the flowers bending gracefully in the gentle breeze.

“Because . . . all of you remind me of me, and I want to help. I know what it’s like to be me and no one else should look like that.”

Akito contemplated Harrison’s words but could not make sense of it. How could this boy look at them and see himself. No one could possibly understand what they – as the Zodiac – could possibly have been through.

After a moment of thinking, she gave up trying to figure out the puzzle in his words.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she finally told him, and she suddenly felt very tired, like she had run a mile and was finally stopping for a rest. “I don’t want to talk about anything.”

“Akito —”

“Just . . . just leave me alone,” she told him and then added a ‘please’ when he didn’t look like he was going to leave it alone.

Harrison stared at her for a long time, his eyes searching for something in her face. Whatever it was he seemed to find it for he nodded and stood up languishly, stretching like a cat that had been lounging for too long.

“We’ll talk later,” he called and then he was gone before Akito had a chance to demand that he stay away. 

* * *

 

Draco Malfoy leaned back in the thick armchair and let out a sigh worthy of an old wealthy man – which he was, except for the old part.

He was sitting in one of the many offices that were located in his family’s manor. A manor that was so big, he hadn’t seen hind-nor-hair of his mother for a little over a week – and she was defiantly somewhere here if the house elves could be trusted.

This office was his personal one, located only a few paces from his personal quarters. The walls were a calming blue, a very neutral tone for a once Slytherin that was infatuated with a Gryffindor. A silver line separated the lighter blue on the bottom from the darker blue above it. A grand fireplace took up the west wall, looking large and imposing with smooth granite stone. Above the fireplace was a portrait of the one Malfoy who didn’t dabble in the Dark Arts – Draco had come to grow quite fond of her.

The room was furnished with soft black letter chairs and dark imposing wood. It had an immaculate desk, strewn with papers and what-nots that often filled an office desk. There was a loveseat pushed up against the south wall, a throw folded neatly on its cushions. The floor was a dark cobalt that was polished to shine and reflect back a person’s image.

It was in this office that Draco had spent the better part of the day – which was sadly almost over without having been the slightest bit uplifting.

A pale hand came up to his face, and he gently massaged his temple, where a headache had been throbbing since earlier that morning.

He hated weeks like this – or rather he hated this week of every year since three years ago, or should it have been four years ago? Whichever, this week was hell, and the constant memories did not help.

With another sigh, Draco sat forward and reached for the paper, the Daily Prophet that he hadn’t been able to read that morning because of all the meeting he had been in. He wasn’t all that interested in it, hadn’t been for a while now, but when he picked it up, a familiar name jumped out at him.

Blinking repeatedly as if he had been hit with a Confundus Charm, Draco let his eyes trail around the front page before landing on the headline, which screamed out at him in bolded letters:  **The Boy-Who-Lived a Father**

Draco found himself blinking again, and then he slid his steel colored eyes down to the article. The more he read, the angrier he became – so much in fact, that the paper went up into flames as his magic surged out of his control.

A vein pulsed dangerously in his forehead, completely overshadowing the headache that had showed up because of monotonous meeting on business. The blonde man gritted his teeth to get some semblance of control over his raging emotion. When he was considerably calmer, he barked out a name sharply, and with a crack, a house elf appeared at his side.

“Yes, Master Draco, yous is requesting help, sir?”

“Shirley, get my traveling clock, I’m going out.”

Shirley bowed lowly, her long nose brushing the carpeted floor.

“Yes, Master Draco, sir. I’s be getting that right away, sir.”

Shirley bowed once more and then disappeared in another crack and a swirl of a yellow toga. Draco sighed once she was gone and pinched the bridge of his nose. He remained like this until he heard another crack, which signaled Shirley’s return. Draco looked over at the house elf and held out his hand for the cloak.

“That will be all.”

Once again Shirley nodded and bowed, as she had been taught to do, and then promptly left.

Draco took a deep breath and stood up slowly, draping the cloak over his shoulders as he did so. As he swept out of the room, he looked like a man on a mission, which he was, not that anyone knew.

But one thing was official . . .

Draco  _hated_  this week. 

* * *

 

Harry whistled to himself as he strolled toward the Sohma compound. For some off reason, he was in a very chipper mood. It might just have something to do with going home, to Europe, for the first time in two months. That thought had Harry stopping for a minute and he thought:  _Wow, it’s been two months._

With an amused smile, Harry shook his head and began to walk again, his hands stuffed casually into his pockets.

That was how he looked when Cho saw him. For a moment she was frozen in shock, because this cheerful man strolling down the street could not be the Harry Potter that she knew, but after another look she realized that it was. She soon found herself grinning also, and she jogged over to catch up to him.

“Hey, Harry, fancy seeing you here.”

Harry blinked slowly and turned to look over at her out of the corner of his eye. That one gesture brought Cho up for a moment, and she was suddenly reminded of why she had fallen in love with him when he gave her a slow smile that melted the ice in his emerald eyes.

“Hi, Cho, how have you been?”

“Fine . . . just fine,” Cho replied, a little breathlessly. Harry’s next smile was quick and cheeky. “So . . . um . . . what’s got you in such a good mood,” she asked hesitantly, not sure if it was in her right to ask such a question – they hadn’t even really gone out and they hadn’t ever been friends before that.

“Just decided to go back home for a quick look in is all.”

Harry ended the statement with a casual shrug. Cho’s step faltered and she had to run to catch up to him. He was whistling again now when she fell into step beside him.

“Wait . . . you’re going back? To England? Today,” she questioned, and the panicked tone had him stopping to look at her quizzically.

“Yes, why,” he asked slowly, burning her with that intense gaze. Cho blushed and looked down at her hands, which she had been twisting together in her nervousness. After a moment she found the courage to look back up at him and she said, “It’s not safe?”

One dark brow lifted and he repeated Cho’s words, but his voice was thick with sarcasm.

“‘It’s not safe?’ Cho, when had things ever been safe for me? If I went around trying to be safe I’d be trapped in a little house on some random forgotten island and Voldemort would still be at large. So why don’t you give me a different excuse than that.”

Cho’s blush seemed to deepen at Harry’s words because she suddenly realized how foolish she sounded. How could she say such words to _the_ Harry Potter? It would be like telling the sun not to shine because it was dark . . . completely pointless.

“I’m sorry Harry, I wasn’t thinking,” she told him softly. “But things are really bad over there. You’re everywhere and there are rumors, lots of rumors.”

Harry didn’t look the least bit deterred, so Cho tried again.

“Harry, as soon as you step foot in Diagon Alley, the press will be on you like hounds. You’ve already been missing for a couple of years now, according to them at least.”

Cho stopped there even though she wanted to say more, but she could see that he was thinking now, and that was good.

“Alright,” he finally conceded with a sigh. “What do you suggest I do, because I promised a few people that I’d go?”

Cho bit her lip now and looked around as if the answer might come flying through the air. After a minute her face lit up.

“Oh! I know! We can disguise you,” she told him. “It won’t be terribly hard to do and . . . and . . . and maybe I can come with you. You know, for back up, in case something goes wrong,” she added the last part quickly, and then fell into timid silence, looking slightly fearful and embarrassed.

Harry almost laughed at the look on the mostly confident girl’s face.

“That’s a great idea Cho,” Harry finally told her, after leaving her hanging for a bit. Cho let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and the fell into step with Harry, who had started walking again.

“So . . . um . . . who are these people?”

“Hmm,” Harry hummed, sounding like he had just been pulled from some thought. “Oh, they’re just a couple of kids and their guardian.”

Cho looked curious but didn’t push. She still wasn’t sure where her boundaries fell when it concerned Harry.

The rest of the walk was done in silence, and surprisingly, Cho didn’t mind too much. 

* * *

 

Harry spotted Kisa first, so distinguishable by her vibrantly colored hair. She was standing nervously next to Hiro, his hand clasped in hers, as she looked around. Kureno was nowhere in sight. As Harry approached with Cho at his side, he looked down at his watch.

5:58.

“Potter-san!”

Harry looked up again and saw Kisa waving at him wildly, a wide smile on her cute face. Harry found himself automatically smiling back.

“Hey, you two.”

Hiro huffed and crossed his arms but offered no words of greeting, and Harry didn’t really expect him to.

“This is one of my schoolmates, Chang, Cho. Cho, this is Sohma, Hiro and Sohma, Kisa.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Cho greeted them kindly. Kisa smiled back and gave the older girl a slight bow, but Hiro didn’t pay her the least bit of attention.

Cho didn’t seem to notice. She turned to look at Harry with a questionable look.

“Didn’t you say their guardian was coming,” she asked innocently.

Hiro reacted to this.

He jerked around and leveled Harry with a heated glare.

“What guardian?”

Harry rolled his eyes and looked down at his watch.

It read 5:59 now.

“Well, I can’t just take you two out of the country without supervision, so I invited one of your many cousins along,” he told Hiro off-handedly.

“Which cousin? I swear if you dragged that stupid  _dog_ —”

“I haven’t told Shigure – or anyone in that house for that matter – about what I am, so why would I ask him to tag along?”

Hiro spluttered indigently and an embarrassed blush stole across his cheeks.

“So which cousin is it,” Kisa questioned curiously.

Harry looked up from his watch, which was now reading 6:00, and saw Kureno making his way over to them. Kisa followed his gaze and let out a little squeak of surprise. She could honestly count on one hand how many times she had come into contact with Kureno Sohma, and the man never seemed to stray too far from Akito’s side.

“Good morning,” Kureno greeted stoically, nodding his head at all those present.

“G-good morning, Kureno-san,” Kisa chirped nervously, her face a bright red. Her eyes were a little over bright, and she was now gripping Hiro’s hand painfully tight, but the boy didn’t seem to notice. He himself was looking at Kureno suspiciously, as if the man might have some kind of ulterior motive.

“Well, now that we’re all here,” Harry started, turning around to face Cho. “We should get going. So . . . how are we going to do this?”

Cho lifted and dropped her shoulders in a shrug and behind her Hiro began to look skeptical.

“Um . . . what were you planning before I tagged along?”

“A Portkey.”

Cho frowned at this, looking suddenly like a disapproving parent.

“And were you going to tell anyone about this Portkey,” she demanded. Harry had the decency to look sheepish, but he did not offer an answer. And Cho didn’t need one.

“Harry, that’s illegal! You of all people should know that you can’t go around creating Portkeys all willy-nilly. What would you do if you got caught?”

Harry sighed and shrugged her probing questions off.

“Look, that’s neither here nor there, so let’s just . . .” He waved his arm in a rolling fashion and then turned to look at the three Sohmas who had been watching them in confusion. “Okay, so . . . Portkey is obviously not an option” – he threw Cho a pointed look and she blushed darkly – “so our other choices are: plane – which would take way too long by the way, Floo – which I don’t think is possible cause who would we Floo to? And it’ll probably do horrors to your balance, and lastly, Tran-Continental Apparition – which is killer to do and highly uncomfortable. Which will it be then?”

This was all said in a chirpy tone as if Harry were asking them what type of ice-cream they wished to eat. The three stared at Harry blankly and Cho coughed from behind him as if she were trying to cover a laugh.

“Am I going to have to choose?” When he got no answer, Harry sighed and held out his arm. “Apparition it is then.”

“Wait, isn’t that dangerous,” Cho finally piped up, and Kisa, who had been about to grab Harry’s arm, drew her hand back, looking frightened. Harry turned to look at Cho with an annoyed expression.

‘Since when have I ever done something that would likely put someone in danger,” he demanded in a soft voice, but there was a lurking firmness behind it that had Cho cringing slightly. She didn’t even bother to attempt to answer that question, because, honestly, there were several occasions that she could name for him.

Satisfied that Cho didn’t bother to answer, Harry held his arm out once more and told the three Sohmas to grab on and not let go. Then he turned to look at Cho.

“The destination is in front of the Leaky Caldron. See you there.”

And then he proceeded to vanish with a sharp crack, like the sound of a backfiring car. 

* * *

 

Hiro decided that he did not like Apparition, no matter how fast and easy it was. It was a crude way of transportation and the Wizard that came up with it was clearly a sadistic bastard. The only thing remotely good that came out of that . . . torture was that the whole time Kisa had clung to him like a life-line.

“Is everyone alright,” Harry questioned and after Hiro had been sure that his breakfast wouldn’t come back up on him he looked up to glare at the man who had the gall to grin at him. Hiro opened his mouth, a scathing reply on his lips but he never got his chance.

“Harry, come here, I need to do this before someone spots you.” The girl – Cho something – was quick to gain Harry’s attention and she seemed very pleased when she did. It was painfully obvious that she like the other, but Hiro had a feeling that Harry wouldn’t like her back anytime soon.

Harry walked leisurely over to Cho and the girl grabbed his face with one hand and raised her wand with the other. A few swishes and muttered words and she then she nodded.

“There, no one should be able to recognize you now.”

Hiro was surprised when Harry turned to face them again. Cho had somehow, with magic – he still wasn’t used to that – managed to change Harry’s features completely.

He now had clear blue eyes with only the slightest hint of green. There were a brush of freckles on his cheeks and his hair was now a nice strawberry blonde. Cho then held out her hand and Harry dropped his glasses in them.

“Okay then, let’s get going.”

Harry and Cho led them out of the alley and they easily blended in with the crowd.

Hiro looked around him with open curiosity. It was the first time he had been outside of Japan and he wanted to fully enjoy the experience.

London was full of old grey building that looked greyer with the dark clouds looming over the city. People walked everywhere and the streets were filled with cars. It reminded Hiro of Tokyo, except that it was grey and there were no flashing lights.

“Where are we going again,” Hiro demanded. Harry looked back at him before speaking.

“The Leaky Cauldron.”

Hiro blinked. Was he supposed to know what that was?

“It’s that building right there,” that Cho girl told him, pointing at something. Hiro looked in that direction, but all he could see was a rundown bar squished between two tall buildings. Hiro noticed that no one else seemed to notice the building; they just walked on by like it didn’t exist.

“We’re going into  _that_?”

Harry laughed at his question, which only served to annoy Hiro.

“What’s so funny? That place looks like a fire hazard. It looks like it’ll cave in on us.”

“It’s supposed to look like that,” Cho told him helpfully. “It’s a safety measure. We wouldn’t want any Muggles finding out about the Wizarding World.”

“What are Muggles,” Kisa asked. Cho turned back to look at her questioningly and then shot Harry a disapproving look.

“Muggles are non-magic people.” When Kisa nodded, Cho turned back around and then started a heated discussion with Harry, who seemed to just shrug her off. The group stopped in front of the bar, which Hiro could now see was called the Leaky Cauldron.

“So, now what,” he questioned. “Are we gonna walk through some kind of magical portal into some fairytale land.”

“No,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes. “Come on.”

He opened the door and ushered them all into the dingy building. The inside was just as bad as the outside. Hardly anyone was in the bar, except for a man standing behind the bar counter, cleaning glasses with a slightly dirty rag.

“Welcome,” the man called out. “What can I do you for?”

“Nothing now, Tom,” Cho called back warmly. “I’m just leading some foreigners into Diagon Alley. They’ve never been, you know.”

Tom, as Cho had called him, nodded his head and gave them a smile, which made Hiro realize that he was missing some teeth. Hiro rolled his eyes and followed Harry and Cho through a door in the back of the room. It opened into a very small alleyway.

Hiro stared blankly at the brick wall before him, before a sudden thought crossed his mind.

“Hey, wait a second.” Cho and Harry turned to look inquiringly at him. “How was I able to understand what that guy was saying?”

“Well, magic of course,” was Harry’s reply. “I put a charm on all of you before we left.”

Hiro blinked. He didn’t remember Harry doing any magic before they left.

Harry turned back around to study the brick wall. Then he pulled out his wand and tapped at a seemingly random brick. Hiro, Kisa, and Kureno watched in fascination as the brick wall suddenly started moving, separating down the middle to reveal a large archway.

“Welcome, guys, to Diagon Alley,” Harry said cheerfully with a cheeky grin.

Hiro was sure that his jaw had fallen somewhere on the ground before him. If he hadn’t believed in magic before he certainly believed in it now.

Diagon Alley was teaming with life. There were shops all around, witches and wizards moved about in brightly colored robes, owls hooted, things whistled and whizzed. And towering over it all was a large, white building.

“Come on.”

Harry’s voice jarred Hiro out of his stupor and without really thinking about it, the teen followed the wizard out into the crowd, still looking around in wonder.

“We’ll have to stop at Gringotts first.”

“Gringotts,” Kureno asked curiously and Hiro looked over to see that this was not the same stoic man that followed Akito like some lost puppy. Hiro couldn’t recall a time in which he had ever seen the man show any type of emotion. He had to admit, this was a welcomed change.

“Gringotts is the Wizarding bank,” Harry was explaining, pointing at the large white building. “It’s where we keep our gold.”

“Gold? You use gold to buy stuff,” Kisa asked, her voice full of wonder. Harry nodded, that cheerful grin still plastered on his face.

The group quickly made their way toward Gringotts. Hiro stared, wide-eyed, at the two wizard guards standing outside of the building. And then the large doors were opening and they found themselves standing in a small entrance room. There were another set of doors and above it was a golden scroll with a warning written on it.

“ _Enter, stranger, but take heed of what awaits the sin of greed. For those who take, but do not earn, must pay most dearly in their turn. So if you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours, thief, you have been warned, beware, of finding more than treasure there_.”Kureno recited and then asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a warning. Basically, you aren’t supposed to steal from Gringotts.”

As Cho said this she shot Harry an amused look.

“Yeah, no one’s ever broken into Gringotts and gotten out alive,” Harry added, but Hiro had a feeling that the man was lying because he would not look anyone in the eye. “But enough of that.” And with that said, Harry pushed open the door that would lead them into the bank. Hiro started forward but stopped immediately in the doorway, causing Kisa to bump into him.

“Hiro, what’s wrong,” Kisa questioned before following his gaze and then she let out a little squeak of surprise. All around there were these ugly little green creatures. They looked rather vicious, with sharp nails and pointed teeth.

“What are those,” Kisa whispered as Harry and Cho lead them toward one of the high counters.

“Goblins,” Harry informed them. “You never want to cross one and you certainly don’t want to make a deal with them.” Harry’s tone turned scorching toward the end and he scowled up at the goblin before him.

“Hello, Griphook,” he greeted in an icy tone. The goblin looked over at Harry, surprise on ugly his face.

“Ah . . . can I help you, sir?”

“I want to get access to my vault,” Harry told him, getting straight to business. He placed a key on the counter and after a brief study the goblin looked up at Harry with fear filled eyes.

“Ah, yes, Mr. P-potter. It’s been a while.”

“Whatever. My vault,” Harry said in a flat voice. Griphook visibly swallowed and nodded his head like an eager dog ready to please its master.

“O-oh, yes, right away sir.”

He then stepped away from the counter and Harry turned to follow him.

“I’ll be right back,” he told the three Sohmas, adding a grin, and then he disappeared through a couple of doors at the very end of the hall.

Harry returned twenty minutes later with a bag of coins.

“Alright, now that we have some money, we can shop.”

“What exactly are we going to buy, Harry-nii,” Kisa asked, falling into step beside him.

“Well, you three need wands. Can’t do magic without a wand. And then we need to head for Flourish and Blotts, for books. After that, well we’ll look around and see, okay?”

Kisa nodded and a large smile worked its way across her face, and Hiro thought she had never looked more beautiful. 

* * *

 

Harry thought everything was going perfectly.

After getting the three Sohmas a wand – with no questions from Olivander – he had lost Cho at the Quidditch store.

At the moment he was at Flourish and Blotts, roaming randomly through the twisting isles. Kureno was looking at the curse section and Kisa and Hiro were in the school section.

It was as Harry was passing the front of the shop that he saw it.

There, sitting innocently in a wire basket, was a Daily Prophet from a few days ago. The headline seemed to scream out at him:  **The Boy-Who-Lived a Father**

Harry’s hands clenched reflectively when he saw the face of the Healer who had been assigned to his case a couple of years ago. The woman was grinning cheerfully up at the camera, not an ounce of shame on her face from violating the patient confidentiality she had sworn to uphold when Harry had gone to her.

Harry just about lost it right there, but then he remembered that he was there with three people who were just introduced to magic.

Taking deep calming breaths, Harry went to search them out, hoping to end this trip as soon as possible.

He suddenly needed to be alone. 

* * *

 

It was a completely normal morning – Tohru was out visiting her Granddad and she had taken Harry along with her. The three remaining guys – Yuki, Kyo, and Shigure – were sitting at the table having a late breakfast when it happened.

The doors to the kitchen were thrown open with a flourish and Ayame burst into the room, looking distinctly ruffled and lugging a large stack of old English newspapers.

“Gure,” he cried, looking at said man then around the room with frantic yellow eyes.

“Ayame?”

Shigure put down the newspaper he had been reading and took in his cousin’s sudden appearance all the while wondering if he had forgotten to lock the doors again.

“Oh, you absolutely  _have_  to see this,” Ayame continued on in a rush. “I’m afraid it can’t wait! But first . . . where are young Harrison and the lovely Tohru today?”

“They went out,” Shigure told him numbly, sharing a quick glance with his two younger cousins over Ayame’s odd behavior. Ayame nodded then strolled over to the table and dropped the stack of newspapers onto it before launching into a verbose tale.

“Now, I  _knew_  when I saw him that something had struck me as familiar. You remember how I said that, don’t you Gure? And what I found! . . . It’s a wonder you don’t have reporters knocking down your front door! If anyone knew he was here —” All this was said in a rush until Ayame cut himself off to shake his head. “Of course,  _I_  couldn’t believe it. Well, the proof is in the writing I suppose. But it is still un _believ_ able! To think that he could be —”

“Hold on, Ayame,” Shigure cut in and Ayame promptly shut his mouth, looking a little put-out at being cutoff. “Now, why don’t you calm down and start from the beginning.”

Ayame did as he was told before sitting down next to Yuki. He then took once deep, calming breath.

“Calm?”

Ayame nodded and Shigure smiled encouragingly at him.

“Okay. Now, what is this all about?”

“Harrison Potter, of course,” Ayame announced as if it were obvious. He then went on to explain. “After we had that little talk the other day, I couldn’t get the rid of the nagging feeling that I knew him from somewhere. Therefore, I did some research. I got some of my colleagues in Britain or England or whichever and had them do a little digging on the boy. And this is what they sent me.” He then waved his arm out over the yellowing newspapers before him.

“All this,” Kyo asked skeptically, pulling at one of the articles, “on one guy? What the hell is he?”

“Well, Kyokichi,” Ayame said condescendingly, causing Kyo to bristle like an irritated cat. “What young Harrison is exactly is not something I know, but it is a bit obvious that he is a celebrity of sorts, and a rather important one at that.”

“Really? What did he do,” Yuki asked. Ayame brightened up like he normally did whenever Yuki paid him the least bit of attention, and he turned to face his little brother.

“It was quiet the achievement actually,” he told his brother. “I happened to be there when it happened. As I said before, he had seemed quite familiar.”

“Okay,” Yuki said slowly, his eye twitching in annoyance. He repeated his question slowly, as if he were explaining something complicated to a three-year-old. “But what did he _do_?”

“Why, he helped deal with that raging lunatic that happened to be devastating the country’s crime rate!”

There was a pause as the three Sohmas stared at their silver-haired family member. Finally, Kyo asked the question on all of their minds: “What?”

Ayame sighed and shook his head before leaning forward.

“Okay, do you remember when that well-known Japanese representative went abroad?” He looked between the two high schoolers until they both nodded. “Well, he went to meet the Pope and the Prime Minister about some strange going-ons happening over there.” Ayame then waved his hand carelessly as he said: “Bridges collapsing, very public murders, strange fogs and gas explosions and such.

“Anyways, when he got there, the Prime Minister had managed to sort everything out. Or so the public believed until the man held a nationwide meeting to announce the _real_ Savior of England or wherever.”

Ayame then picked up one of the older newspapers and dropped it into the middle of the table for all to see.

“This is from then.”

The three Sohmas leaned in so that they could get a good look at the article.

The picture held a group of people, all looking proud and important. The Pope – distinguished by his white robes and the gold cross on his chest – was standing in the middle of the picture, at the forefront of the attention. At his side was a man they assumed to be the Prime Minister. He had his arm around a young teen’s shoulder, grinning like a proud father, and the teen was shaking hands with a Japanese man. It took the three a moment to recognize Harry as the teen, looking gangly and slightly ruffled standing with the group of officials. There was a bolded headline at the top of the picture reading (In English of course): **Youth of Today Helps Save the Day**

The article went on to explain how a young boy, no older than seventeen, helped catch a criminal mastermind that had been avoiding all police officials for two-to-three years. The criminal, although caught, was said to be dead – how he died they did not know. Further on in the article it mentioned that the criminal had killed a great number of people, including Harry’s parents and his surrogate godfathers.

“Holy —”

Whatever explicit Kyo was about to colorfully exclaim was cut off when Ayame shot him an impatient look, clearly saying he wasn’t done.

“This,” Ayame said, dragging out the word as he pulled out another bundle of newspapers. “Showed up a few weeks after that, once again, a front pager.”

The newspaper was dropped on top of the first one. They didn’t need to lean in to see it. The picture and the words were large enough for them to easily read the foreign words:  **Young Savior Has Tea with the Queen**

Harry was seen sitting at a small round table, nearly elbow to elbow with a regal looking woman. She was dressed imperiously and Harry looked rather shabby sitting beside her in an overlarge T-shirt and baggy jeans that were clearly old. But the woman was smiling and chatting with Harry easily and Harry didn’t look the least bit intimidated by her presence as people would assume. There were three other people with them – excluding the security – that looked just as well managed as the Queen herself.

Before any of the three had time to comment, Ayame place another newspaper before them.

“This was a few days after that.”

It was a candid shot of Harry walking casually down some street – caught mid-laugh. He was once again surrounded by people – five this time. They all looked around Harry’s age and one of the girls, a girl with vibrant red hair, was latched rather possessively onto his arm. Above the picture was a question:  **Who Is This Boy?**

“And then this.”

A group of older men ranging from the ages of forty to sixty took up the majority of the photo this time. Harry was sitting in the midst of them, looking very much out of place. The headline this time read:  **Savior Meets with Ambassadors**

Ayame continued to reveal newspaper after newspaper in which Harry was featured meeting with several important people and some of him going about his daily life. Kyo, Yuki, and Shigure were shocked by the amount of times that the one teen was mentioned, but the odd thing was that not once did they mention his name in the headline. He was always ‘The Savior’.

They had gone through more than half the stack when Ayame suddenly stopped pulling out articles.

“Is that all,” Shigure asked, eyeing the six or seven newspapers left. Ayame shook his head and made a tsk sound that had Shigure smiling a little, despite the seriousness of the situation.

“No, no, of course not.”

Ayame then paused to take an unnecessary breath. Kyo’s eye twitched in annoyance, but before he could act on the impulse to strangle his older cousin, Ayame began speaking again.

“These just happen to be the end of the . . . good news.”

“What,” Yuki asked for all three of them.

“Yes, yes,” Ayame said with a nod of his head. “All that stuff was good and all, but then the media got their claws into a juicy bit of news. Look, see.”

Yuki gritted his teeth in annoyance when Ayame simply waved the next newspaper in the air. His patience, which wasn’t a lot whenever his older brother came around, seemed to be coming to an end.

“Nii-san . . .” Ayame blinked and then seemed to realize what he was doing. He then cleared his throat and dropped the newspaper down for them to see.

As expect, a large photo of Harry took up the majority of the page. He looked as old as he did now, but his appearance was still shaggy at best. The picture was of him just exiting a rather large house. He looked wide-eyes and was caught in the action of fixing his shirt as he fled from the building. The headline helped explain the situation a bit:  **Savior and a Secret Lover?**

A quick scan of the article gave way to a little bit more information. It went on to say that the Savior was caught leaving the home of a single man in the early morning. Supposedly, Harry was caught the night before leaving the bar with the man, who was a rumored play-boy.

“What does this —,” Yuki started to ask, but Ayame shook his head.

“This is just the catalyst,” he told his little brother.

“Catalyst,” Shigure echoed and Ayame nodded.

“Yes, this article made way for these.” Ayame waved his hand over the remaining few newspapers before picking one up to show them.

This one didn’t show Harry at all.

The page was filled with an enlarged picture of an important looking business man. He sat with a straight back and look stoically into the camera. He had long, white-blonde hair that was pulled into a ponytail and tied off with a black ribbon. His face was sharp looking and his silver eyes seemed to hold no emotion. The man’s name was printed at the top in bolded letters:  **Draco Malfoy: Ex-Death Eater**

“What’s a Death Eater,” Kyo questioned when he caught the title.

“That’s what that madman called all of his followers,” was Ayame’s short reply. Yuki waited, thinking his brother would say more – Ayame was known for his long-winded answers – but when he didn’t Yuki asked a question instead.

“So, what does this guy have to do with Potter-san?”

“Well,” Ayame said, dragging the word out. “He has just about everything to do with Harrison.” Yuki rolled his eyes at the very vague answer. “Anyway,’ Ayame continued before anyone else had a chance to comment. “After this came out, Harrison just disappeared.”

“Be he’s here,” Kyo told his cousin.

“Well, yes, he is, but _they_ don’t know that.”

“So, Harry is hiding from them here,” Shigure questioned. Ayame shrugged. “Well, what are the others about?”

“Just speculation,” was Ayame’s answer. “After Harrison was caught leaving the house of a former Death Eater, many people began to wonder what he was scheming. The fact that they can’t find him doesn’t help his situation either. In fact, many people believe that he may be trying to fill in the shoes of the madman he helped capture.”

The room was silent after that as the Sohma men absorbed this information.

“So . . . what do we do now,” Kyo asked, breaking the silence. He looked around the table at his two older cousins.

Shigure sighed deeply and leaned back against the wall before saying, “We’re going to have to confront him about it.” 

* * *

 

Harry looked around at the group in the room.

Shigure sat toward the shoji doors that led out to the yard, Ayame next to him and Hatori a few feet away. Haru was perched comfortably on the couch near the kitchen. And Yuki was sitting on the single chair by the entrance. On the floor near the TV, Kyo sat cross-legged. All of them were staring at him, some with the air of an unmet expectation and others with a wary expression. Harry didn’t know what any of this was about, but there was a rather large stack of newspapers on the table.

“I have a feeling there’s gonna be a lot of heavy talking today,” he mused out loud. No one spoke and so he took that as an affirmative to his thought. Feeling rather grim, Harry leaned over and pulled out a large bottle of Butterbeer he had just gotten as a gift from Cho – that and a bottle of Firewhiskey.

“What’s that,” Shigure asked, eyeing the bottle warily.

“This,” Harry said, waving the bottle a little so that the liquid splashed around inside, “is a bottle of Butterbeer. I just got it off of a friend.”

Shigure blinked and shared a loaded look with Hatori and Ayame.

“Beer,” Hatori intoned, looking at Harry with a disappointed expression. Harry waved it off and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t get your knickers in a bunch. If we’re talking about something heavy we might as well loosen up, besides, back at home this is the stuff they sell to the minors.” Here he waved his hand at all of the teens in the room, and then he leaned over once more and pulled out the other bottle. He lifted it up and swirled the amber liquid around before saying, “Now this is for adults.”

“Then why do you have it,” Kyo questioned with a scowl. This time Harry was the one who blinked and then he looked around at all of the Sohma men surrounding him.

“Wait . . . you guys don’t know?” he asked into the silence. Ayame leaned forward in his seat and asked, “Know what?”

Harry shifted then.

“That I’m already legal.”

They all gave him blank looks and so he continued.

“I’m about to turn twenty-three this July. I already have certification.” There was a long moment of shocked silence in which all of the Sohmas stared at Harry with wide eyes. They really should have already known that; the articles spanned over six years and had started when he was about seventeen.

Then Harry sighed and the moment was broken as he said, “It’s because I’m small.” And then he sighed again, poured himself some Firewhiskey – into a glass none of them had noticed before – and then downed it like it was water.

The glass clinked loudly when he placed it on the table.

“Alright, what’s this about?”

“Well . . . um . . .” Shigure looked around at his two friends, not sure how to start.

“We don’t really know much about you, and so Ayame did a little digging,” Hatori sort of blurted out. Harry blinked and looked around to see that the others looked a little bit more relaxed now that this piece of news was out.

“Okay,” he drawled out slowly.

“But, we came around some . . . questionable news,” Shigure inputted. Harry blinked again and then looked over at the stack of newspapers sitting innocently on the table.

“Right, and let me guess. This news came from the newspapers there?”

“Well, yes,” Ayame answered, looking unnaturally serious.

Harry nodded and then leaned back in his seat. He raised his hand and massaged his temple, where he could feel a headache starting. He really didn’t need this right now, not with everything else he was dealing with, which was a lot since he had learned that Rita Skeeter had somehow gotten information about his visit to St. Mungo’s a few years ago.

“Look, I don’t know what you found out or read, but there’s a very good chance that your information is wrong. So if we’re —”

“So you’re not involved with a man named Draco Malfoy,” Ayame asked, sounding unrealistically innocent.

Harry flinched violently and his face grew hard.

“No, as a matter of fact, I’m not.” His tone was as hard as diamond. “Now, I believe we are finished here.” And taking his bottle of Firewhiskey, Harry left the room.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned,” Shigure said long after Harry was gone.

The bottle of Butterbeer sat on the table like a beacon for what had just transpired. 

* * *

 

Tohru found Harry holed up in his room.

It hadn’t taken her long to find out what had happened earlier that day. Ayame had been so ridden with guilt that he had just blurted it out – with all the normal dramatic flair – and then he had driven away in the car with Hatori. Tohru had to admit, at first she had simply stared after them in confusion, not sure what to make of the scene, but then his words made sense to her.

“ _I’m ashamed to say that we have pushed poor Harrison over the edge! The poor boy is all locked up in his room. I’ve never been more ashamed of myself. What was I thinking, questioning a broken soul like that? And to let my innocent little brother join in! I have failed in my job as a respectable man_!”

Of course, most of what he had said hadn’t made much sense, but Tohru would never have the heart to tell the man that. Ayame was simply special and tended to over exaggerate. With a sigh, Tohru shook the thought from her head and focused on her cousin, her cousin that she now knew was so much older than her.

“Harrison,” she called out to him timidly. He was lying on his back on the futon in the corner, an arm slung across his eyes and a dark bottle in his hand. Tohru could just barely make out the grimace on his face in the darkness of the room.

“Harrison, would you like to talk?”

Harry sighed deeply, sounding way too old, before motioning for Tohru to come in. She did, closing the door behind her so that the room was completely engulfed in darkness. Slowly, Tohru made her way over and sat down near Harry’s feet.

“I don’t like to talk about the past. I barely like to think about it, it’s not exactly pleasant,” Harry told her in a gruff tone.

The room was silent as Tohru thought over his words. What did that mean? What could possibly be painful enough to make someone dislike the past?

“I was going to tell you, I just forgot.”

Tohru jumped in shock at the sudden sound but then she heard what Harry had said and she frowned.

“Tell me what?”

“That I was turning twenty-three soon.”

“Oh,” Tohru said softly, not sure what else to say. She heard a clink and assumed Harry has put the bottle down and then she felt his arms around her. They were rather hard for someone that looked so soft, but Tohru was coming to find that there were a lot of things about Harry that didn’t quite fit with his appearance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her shoulder when he rested his head there. Tohru squeezed the arm he had wrapped around her shoulder.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

It was silent again and Tohru could feel Harry shaking. She turned around to hug him more properly, drawing his head to her chest, and it was only then that she realized he was crying.

This boy – no man – was crying into her chest, quiet, silent tears and it was so sad to witness it. Harry always seemed so composed and serious. Tohru was reminded of the day they had all gone to the amusement park and how Harry had seemed just like a child.

“Why’d they have to die, Tohru? Why them,” Harry whispered softly, his voice filled with the tears he shed. Tohru was confusion as to who he was talking about and, as if he could read her mind, Harry clarified. “My mum and dad . . . Aunty Kyoko . . . why did they have to die?”

Tears prickled in Tohru’s eyes now. She had once asked herself that same question and she still hadn’t come across an answer, but she knew now that she needed one for him. Harry – who at this moment had reverted to a very much venerable state – needed to hear some kind of answer.

“They died because it was their time to go, but they’re still kind of here. They’re with us every day, watching over us and making sure we live life to its fullest – live life for them.” She was rocking now, Harry cradled against her. Harry sniffled and lifted one hand to whip his nose on his sleeve.

“I’ve been doing a crappy job of that,” he muttered, his voice thick.

“And that’s okay. When they left they also made room for us to make mistakes.”

Harry sniffled again and then gave a little laugh.

“Look at me. I’m supposed to be the older cousin.”

Tohru hummed a little and she wasn’t sure where the words came from, but they were suddenly sliding easily past her lips.

“That’s okay, because sometimes you’ve got to stop acting like an adult and be a child.”

Harry laughed again and then made himself more comfortable, tightening his arms around Tohru’s small frame.

“Tohru?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

Tohru smiled and continued to rock Harry, feeling happier than she had in a while. 

* * *

 

Harry was humming again as he walked through the deserted halls of his school. He was seriously wondering what had come over him when he had sat down to take the entrance exam. It wasn’t like he needed to go to school – he was old and smart enough to live on his own.

“Harrison!”

Tohru’s voice suddenly reminded him of why he decided to go back to school, and with a grin in place he looked up to greet his younger cousin. The grin, however, vanished when he saw her expression and the annoyed look Yuki was giving Haru.

“Tohru, what’s wrong?”

The girl blinked a little bit, but her slightly panicked expression did not vanish. She shot Haru a look and then turned to look at Harry.

“It’s nothing. Haru was just teasing you Honda-san.”

Yuki looked reproachfully at Haru but he simply shrugged.

“Um . . . what,” Harry asked, thoroughly confused.

“It was nothing,” Yuki told him again. “Haru has just been looking for Momiji, have you seen him today?”

Harry blinked and tried to remember back to the last time he had talked to Momiji, and he was drawing a blank. Everything in the last few weeks had all been a blur, which was understandable when he remembered what he had found out in his trip to Diagon Alley three weeks ago. Besides a few passing glimpses of the boy in school, Harry could honestly say that he hadn’t seen the boy, but then again, Harry had been skipping school a lot.

Now that he thought about it, Momiji had been a little distant lately, especially since his growth spurt kicked in.

“Huh, actually, I haven’t seen him in a while. Not since my visit to Akito,” Harry muttered absently. “Why? Is something wrong with him?”

Yuki shook his head but Haru answered.

“He’s just a bit . . .” Harry blinked and waited for Haru to finish but the teen never did. Now Harry could understand why Tohru had panicked, Haru was very . . . vague.

“Um . . . okay. Well . . . if I see him I’ll let you know.”

Haru nodded slowly and Harry walked away from the three. It wasn’t long before he saw Momiji a bit away, up the hallway, talking to Kyo. Harry made his way to approach them when their conversation fell on his ears.

“Did . . . something happen . . . to you,” Kyo asked slowly and Harry couldn’t see his expression from here but he sounded very . . . odd. Momiji didn’t answer at first and for a moment Harry didn’t think he would. But then he turned to face Kyo and gave the cat a very much forced smile.

“My curse was released . . .” Harry started as did Kyo but Momiji wasn’t done talking. “Would . . . it surprise you if I told you that?”

“Huh,” was Kyo’s response and he sounded a little bit angry, but Harry could tell Momiji was lying. He hadn’t noticed at first, but now that Momiji had brought it up Harry could tell there was something off about him. The air around him still shimmered with the magic Harry came to associate with the Sohmas, but there was something missing in it.

“If you were released . . . she’d be really happy. But . . . you know? I’m the one . . . being crushed.” Harry didn’t want to hear anymore. The conversation was quickly treading into personal waters and so he turned to walk away. But it appeared that Momiji was finished already and he was suddenly standing next to Harry, looking at him curiously.

“Hey, Harry. I didn’t see you there.”

Harry blinked and leaned back a little to look up at Momiji. He hadn’t noticed before due to the fact that they had been standing so far away, but Momiji had grown considerably taller over the last few weeks. He now stood on par with Kyo.

“Um . . . hey,” was the unintelligent reply that left Harry’s lips. “Uh . . . wow.”

Momiji tilted his head to the side, his gaze questioning.

“Sorry. It’s just I haven’t seen you in a while. . . . You’ve . . . gotten taller.”

At this Momiji laughed hollowly and rubbed the back of his head.

“Yeah, pretty much. So . . . what’s up?”

Harry shrugged and turned to walk away and Momiji fell into step beside him.

“Nothing. I was actually coming to look for you.” At Momiji's next questioning look, Harry elaborated. “Haru’s been looking for you.”

“Oh,” Momiji intoned softly and when Harry glanced over it was to see Momiji looking a bit guilty and also . . . pitying?

“Yeah. He said something about something being different. You know anything about that?”

Harry continued to study Momiji and so he saw when an oddly gleeful look crossed his face, but the taller teen did not answer and so Harry pushed on.

“. . . You weren’t joking back there, were you? – and don’t look at me like that, you know what I’m talking about.”

Momiji heaved a heavy sigh before nodding slightly.

“Yes, I wasn’t.” He then turned to look Harry in the eyes, his own unnaturally serious. “My curse was released. Just yesterday.”

Harry hummed thoughtfully and nodded. That would certainly explain the aura around Momiji. Now that Harry was concentrating on it fully, he could tell that it was completely grapefruits. Not a hint of orange squash.

“You don’t look very surprised,” Momiji noted and to that Harry shrugged casually.

“Yeah, well there’s not much that can ever surprise me now.” 

* * *

 

There were very few times when Hermione Granger ever felt lost, and this was one of those times. She had been feeling lost for a few days now – actually, if she was being completely honest with herself, she would say that she had been feeling lost for a few years now.

It was here, in her home with Ron, that she had first gotten the news.

She had been sitting in this exact chair, curled up with a book with the fire roaring in front of her. The room had been filled with its cozy warmth and the red walls flicked with shadows. Everything had been organized, the carpet clean, the papers stacked neatly on the desk, and the books placed on the shelves. Everything had seemed so normal, and then she had opened the Prophet – why she still read it even she didn’t know – and the headline had jumped out at her:  **Savior Missing**

And just like that a part of her had disappeared.

It was so weird, because she hadn’t seen Harry in months before she had gotten the news, not since the second anniversary. And Harry had been rather distant before that, Ginny’s presence had made sure of that.

Yes, Harry had played his part well, but Hermione had seen the way he had reacted toward Ginny’s advances, seen the way he had tried to subtly swat her away.

And then there had been that horrible argument following the anniversary. Tempers had been raised, accusations had been thrown, and things had been said that had torn things into tiny pieces.

Ron hadn’t been too happy with the names that Harry had called Ginny, but then, he hadn’t been too happy about the way Ginny had reacted either.

And then Harry was gone before things could be patched up.

It had been shocking to find out, months later, that he had seemed to disappear off the face of the earth.

But that had been years ago, three to be exact, and Harry still hadn’t been spotted.

And now there was this.

Hermione glanced distastefully at the newspaper that had been sitting on the ottoman since the day it had come out weeks ago. She hadn’t thrown it out yet and she had been reading it over and over again, hoping to find some truth in it. It could all be rubbish, but, despite how much it irked her to admit it, Hermione knew all of Rita Skeeter’s articles had at least a thread of truth.

So was Harry really a father like the article claimed? Hermione didn’t know and she had no way to find out.

With a sigh, Hermione set the cup of tea she had in her hand down on the coffee table beside her. The liquid had long since gone cold and warming charms only went so far, so she’d have to wait to get some fresh tea latter. Now, she had more important things to do.

Leaning forward, Hermione picked the newspaper up and smoothed it out. The headline shimmered and the picture of a grinning Healer looked up at her.

Healer Hagen.

She was supposedly the woman in charge of all of Harry’s cases and, so far, Harry had only one case. Hermione remembered all of the words from the article.

Healer Hagen had boastfully said that Harry had come to her in absolute distress one night and who was she to turn down the Savior of the Wizarding World?

Hermione snorted at the thought and shook her head.

The woman was obviously no better than Rita herself and if what she claimed was in the least bit true . . . well Hermione was surprised that the chit had kept her mouth closed for three years. Of course, she probably waited until she was absolutely sure Harry wouldn’t find out and come after her before she spread the happy news.

Hermione snorted again and it was then that she noticed she had company.

Ronald Weasley had stood in the door to the library for five full minutes watching his fiancé chew thoughtfully on her bottom lip. He could tell from the crease between her brow and the way she was constantly throwing calculating looks at the Prophet that Hermione was thinking about Harry.

Ron had found Hermione like this many times since the paper came out.

“Hey,” Hermione called out softly when she finally noticed him.

Ron smiled and pushed off from the doorframe, walking over to her.

“Hey,” he said back, pulling Hermione up out of her seat and into his arms. He rubbed warm circles into her back and only when she was relaxed did he ask his question.

“Worrying about Harry again?”

Hermione sighed and rested her head against Ron’s shoulder.

“Yeah.”

It was quiet for a moment before Hermione asked something that had been bothering her for a long while.

“Do you think any of its true?”

Ron mulled the answer over for a while before nodding.

“Some of it, but not all that other bull about Harry trying to take over the reins from Voldemort,” he told her. Hermione snorted at that.

“I don’t even know where they came up with that one.”

“Yeah, well Skeeter’s always finding some way to twist the truth around. Look what she did to Dumbledore, and the man was dead, not missing.”

Hermione nodded in agreement, a foul taste coming into her mouth at the thought of Skeeter and her horrible autobiography of Dumbledore.

“I wish I could just get at her one more time.”

Ron chuckled and rubbed at her arms, letting his hands flutter down to hers where he threaded their fingers together.

“Well enough about Skeeter and her idiotic ways,” he muttered, lowering his head to rest against her. He smiled and marveled over the way that he could still make Hermione blush as read as a tomato. “It’s really late and I was wondering if —”

Ron was cut off by the long chime of their doorbell. Hermione leaned back in his arms and peered around him, like she could somehow see through the walls to the door on the other side of the house. Then she looked up at him curiously.

“Are you expecting anyone?”

Ron frowned, looking confused.

“No. Are you?”

Hermione shook her head and then looked down at her golden wristwatch.

“It’s nearly midnight.”

“Who the bloody hell is calling at this hour?”

Hermione sighed, threw Ron a reproachful look for his language and then twisted out of his arms. Ron followed her to the door, still muttering curses under his breath about the ungodly hour and poorly timed interruptions.

Hermione rolled her eyes, pulled open the door, and nearly fainted.

“Where the bloody hell is he,” Draco Malfoy demanded, practically spitting fire as he stood there on their porch. Hermione blinked, at a loss for words, and after a moment of shock, Ron glared over at the blonde.

“What the bloody hell Malfoy?”

The blonde aristocrat wasn’t fazed. He pushed past the two and strolled into the house as if he owned it, looking this way and that.

“I don’t have time for your stupidity, Weasel; just tell me where he is so I can  _leave_.”

Ron sputtered indigenously, opening and closing his mouth. He seemed to collect himself after a moment, looking angry, however, Hermione was quick to intervene before Ron could say something harmful.

“Who, _exactly_ , are you looking for, Malfoy?”

Malfoy growled uncharacteristically.

“Scarhead, of course. Who else would I come looking for at this ungodly hour? So, if you could just tell me where he is . . .” Hermione drew in a deep breath as if preparing herself for a battle before letting it out in a whoosh.

“We don’t know where Harry is. We haven’t seen nor heard from him in three years.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed as they traveled between the two ex-Gryffindors suspiciously, as if he were trying to see if they were telling him the truth or not. Then he blinked and his hostile expression relaxed into a mask of indifference.

“I see,” he said calmly, fixing his robes as if there was something wrong with them. “Well then, I’m sorry for disturbing your night. I’ll just be on my way.”

And then he turned and walked right back out the still open door. Ron and Hermione stared after him in shocked confusion.

“Well,” Ron finally said. “That was weird.”

Hermione simply nodded her head in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go for all you wonderful Draco fans. He has officially entered the story and he’s a man on a mission. We can only hope that he soon accomplishes it, because I’m sure all of you are just itching for some Harry/Draco action.


	6. Surprises around Every Corner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEAVY SPOILER ALERT! I'm talking so heavy, it's ridiculous. Which really just means that I'm pretty much copying from the manga in this one. Chapters 119-123 from Fruits Basket are all used in this one.  
> YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! :D

_The sun was shining brightly in the sky and I was sitting comfortably on a blanket spread out on the green, green grass. I was shaded by a large oak tree and there was a slight breeze which carried the sound of children’s laughter._

_I was smiling and I was happy._

_Everything was absolutely perfect._

_So much so that when I turned around I saw_ him.

_“Harry.”_

_He called my name with such love that a shiver sprinted down my spine. I moved closer to him and he wrapped one of his arms around my waist._

_“This is nice.”_

_He hummed in agreement, dropping his head so that he could nuzzle my neck. I was pretty sure there was a shit-eating grin on my face, but I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed. Not even when he pressed a chaste kiss under my ear._

_“Daddy! Daddy!”_

_I turned around at the sound, glimpsing white-blonde hair and emerald eyes just as —_  

* * *

 

Harry awoke with a start and sat up immediately. He looked around in confusion before a frown took over his face.

Harry honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had had a good dream, but there it was; the first one in what had to have been at least seven years. And it was so . . . _strange_. He could only remember bits and pieces of it.

White blonde hair, vibrant green eyes, a hand around his waist, a soft voice, children’s laughter . . . and . . . and . . . nothing . . .

With a groan Harry threw himself back onto the futon that was his bed.

For a moment he simply stared up at the blurry brown and off-white blob that was the ceiling before he realized that – good dream or not – he would not be getting any more sleep.

With a resigned sigh, Harry got out of bed and went about the motions of getting ready for the day. Then he headed up to the roof, where he planned to sit until everyone else was awake. 

* * *

 

It was on a windy day that Draco Apparated to the tallest hill outside of a town called St. Catchpole – where the houses looked like a collection of toy houses on a children’s play set. But Draco wasn’t interested in the town – he could care less about any Muggles or anything that was associated with them.

No, what he was interested in was a house, and a house he would find.

It was only after searching almost every hill top around the area that Draco found what he was looking for. The ‘house’ was shaped like a giant black rook with a luminous moon hanging behind it in the midmorning sky. There was a sign hanging from it that creaked ominously on its rusty chains. It read: The Quibbler Editor: L. Lovegood

Draco would have rolled his eyes, but he didn’t have the time or the patience to even think about what that odd girl was doing writing a paper that was basically obsolete.

Straightening his robes and fixing his hair as best as he could with the strong wind, Draco strolled purposely past the creaking gate and up the zigzagging path that lead to the house.

There were a number of odd plants planted along the way, and Draco could recognize one as something the Looney ex-Ravenclaw had worn as earrings. Turning his nose up at it – just like his mother had taught him – Draco rapped smartly on the front door and then waited for it to open. He only had to wait a few seconds and then he was staring into the misty blue eyes of one Luna Lovegood.

“Ah . . . Draco Malfoy,” the young woman greeted him in her dreamy voice. Her eyes focused in for a moment before drifting back into a look of fog, like the girl wasn’t completely present inside of her own body. “I was wondering when you’d come calling.”

“Oh, so you were expecting me,” Draco demanded and his voice was full of accusations.

Luna let out a small “Hum,” before she stood to the side and motioned for Draco to enter her clustered home.

“Please, come in, Mr. Malfoy.” 

* * *

 

Harry needed a distraction, and a very good one at that.

His dream from two days ago kept creeping up on him, filling him with dreams and a longing for something he knew was impossible for him to have. He felt sick and his head was spinning, pounding painfully.

It had been so unexpected, so out of the blue, it was making him nauseous.

Harry pivoted forward and clutched at the tree before him as everything wavered before his eyes. He had been walking through these woods aimlessly since he had woken up from another one of those tantalizing dreams. He had come out here and now he was sure he was lost, but that thought hadn’t really crossed his mind yet.

It was raining, had been raining for a while.

Maybe that’s what had triggered the dream that had reappeared last night. But that was stupid. It hadn’t been raining in the dream and besides, Harry already knew what triggered the dream; he just didn’t want to think about it, about  _him_. Wasn’t it painful enough that he had to hide like this?

There was a rustling in the bushes to Harry’s right. His head jerked up and his arm twitched, but all he saw was a deer darting for cover away from the rain.

Harry sighed and turned so that he could lean his back against the tree he had been using as support. He closed his eyes for a moment, but then the dream seemed to dart across his closed eyelids, so he opened them again. He tried clearing his mind by staring blankly out at the forest surrounding him, but then he would start to hear children’s laughter.

Growling lowly under his breath, Harry pushed himself off of the tree and spun on his heel, and then he promptly Disapparated on the spot. 

* * *

 

When Tohru woke up, it was to see the rain falling steadily outside her window.

She stared out at it for a moment, taking in the peace of a quiet house, before she slowly got up and went through her morning routine. As she did so, she glanced over at the grinning picture of her mother and knew that today was the day.

She could feel it.

Something was going to change today, and the only scary thing about it, was that she didn’t know if that change would be good or bad.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Tohru prompted herself to gather her courage and then she headed downstairs to start breakfast. She hummed as she worked, trying to fill herself with happy, calming thoughts before she had to do it.

Kyo came down as she was setting the table. Tohru breathed in quietly through her nose and sat down at the table with him. Breakfast was quiet that morning, Kyo was subdue because of the rain, Shigure was out, and Yuki was sleeping in because of the holiday. Tohru had no idea where Harry had gone, but she was confident that he would be fine.

“Thanks for the meal.”

Tohru’s heart jumped a little at Kyo’s sudden voice. She looked up and saw that he had already gotten up.

“Ah . . . yes.”

“I’m going out for a little while,” he told her as he walked away from the table. Tohru watched him go for a moment, just muttering a soft, “Ok,” before she remembered what she had to do. Kyo was already in the foyer when she finally got up from the table.

“Kyo-kun . . .” she called out to him. Kyo paused, one hand on the half-opened door and the other hand holding an umbrella.

“Ah . . . if you would, please listen to me,” Tohru asked. Her heart was pounding loudly in her chest and she could feel the blood heating her face. “I would like to talk, please.”

Tohru saw Kyo hesitate on the threshold for a moment and she was afraid that he would leave without hearing her out. And then he turned around and his expression had Tohru’s heart stopping.

It was an odd mixture of anger and irritation and sadness and just a pinch of longing that she was sure he didn’t want her to see. But she couldn’t make much sense of the emotions she was seeing anyway.

“Kyo?”

“I-I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” Kyo suddenly said, and to Tohru he sounded deadened. “If I’m wrong, feel free to laugh at me as much as you like. . . . If you think I’m an idiot. You . . .” Kyo paused, hesitated and then blurted it all out.

“Do you love me?”

Tohru froze, too shocked to say anything.

For a moment there was a little panic inside of her.  _How could he possibly know? Was it that obvious? Had he known all along? What now?_ These questioned ran through her mind over and over again in a dizzying pattern that was sure to give anyone a headache. But Kyo was waiting for an answer and Tohru didn’t know what to give him, and so she did the only thing that she could do. She blushed furiously.

Kyo’s eyes widened and the bad feeling Tohru had been trying to ignore since she had woken up, suddenly increased.

Kyo looked away.

“Are you stupid,” He asked almost angrily and although his voice was low and soft, Tohru felt as if her heart had just dropped into her stomach. “I didn’t think that you were this stupid. Why?”

Tohru had no answer. Love didn’t work that way. There was no reason why, it just was, but Kyo obviously knew that, because he went on.

“Your . . . mother, don’t you love her? Or . . . is that a lie? Did it ‘never exist’?” Kyo paused, gave her an opportunity to explain, but she didn’t.

He turned around.

“I have to go,” he muttered and then he was out the door, walking out into the rain.

Tohru didn’t think about it, she just simply acted. She followed him out into the yard.

“Kyo-kun.”

_It is painful_ , was all Tohru could think, but she still called out to him. She just had to know, had to find out, was this all worth it?

“If you would, please listen to me. . . . I . . .”

“You don’t know anything,” Kyo suddenly shouted. Tohru could see fear in his eyes now, could see the ghost of the monster inside of him. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

Tohru’s eyes widened as did Kyo’s. He looked so scared, but there was also something else, hidden deep inside of there. Kyo turned his head away before Tohru could figure out what it was, and then he was talking again.

“She shouldn’t have died. . . . In truth . . . your mother . . . your mother, I knew her. That day . . . The accident on that day, I was right there. . . . I immediately recognized her. . . . I wondered if I should speak to her. Then I saw a car coming at a fast speed in your mother’s direction. I realized it was dangerous. I only had to take her arm and hold her tight to save her . . . but I’m not ‘human’. If I held her, I would have turned into the cat, and everyone would have known that I was not ‘human’. I let her die.”

Tohru didn’t know what to do, couldn’t do anything. Kyo looked so . . . broken, pouring out his heart like this. What had it been like, to be there and know you could have helped but at a price that you couldn’t pay?

“I . . . her injuries wouldn’t have been so painful and severe,” Kyo continued to say, the pain clear in his voice, in his body, in the eyes he cast down to the ground. “She wouldn’t have been thrown. She definitely wouldn’t have died. Yet . . . I felt _‘I’_ was worth more than your mother’s _‘life’_. I protected _‘myself’_. I chose ‘ _myself’_  over a ‘ _life’_! What is wrong with me? . . . Why am I . . . like this? . . .”

All that pain, so clear as day.

_Who could possibly hold onto that much?_  Tohru wondered and then she realized that Harry sometimes looked the same way. He looked as if all the pain in the world was his to carry, just like Kyo looked now. It was heart wrenching and Tohru didn’t think there could possibly be anymore, but then Kyo was opening his mouth again and she knew there was more pain.

“My . . . mother . . . was killed in a similar way, but not by a car. She couldn’t find a reason for giving birth to something like me.” The way he said it, so matter-of-factly, made Tohru want to cry, but she was frozen in place, listening. Always listening. “Since I was so pathetic, it was painful for her. She couldn’t stand being near me. She cried so much one day, then she died. It’s . . . all . . . my . . . fault. . . .”

_No its not_ , Tohru wanted to yell. She wanted to scream it for the world to hear.  _It wasn’t his fault. Stop blaming him!_

“I took it,” Kyo said it in a manner of a person confessing to a crime. “I-I killed her. . . .”

The sharp intake of breath was inaudible and Tohru was glad, because she was sure that if she had made any noise, Kyo would have bolted. It had been so quiet after Kyo’s confession, just the sound of the rain hitting the house and the trees and the grass.

“She said . . . ‘I won’t forgive you.’ Your mother, lying there in blood, recognized me and said, ‘I won’t forgive you’.”

Tohru’s heart, already in turmoil, skipped a beat. There was no way her mother would ever say something like that. She was the one who taught Tohru forgiveness. But here was Kyo, telling her all of this.

“Surely . . . that’s what I heard," Kyo said, lifting his hand to his face as if to cover up the memory physically. “When . . . I heard those words, I . . . I couldn’t do anything. . . . My mind was in chaos. . . . I ran away . . . from that place. From there . . . Shishou took me . . . to the mountains.”

Oh, that made sense now.

In her mind, Tohru heard Kyo’s voice from a long time ago.  _“For about four months, I disappeared into the mountains for training.”_

“‘Training,’” Kyo said, almost as if he had read Tohru’s mind. “As if that was possible. Shishou tired to release me from the darkness, but I couldn’t forgive myself for what I did. I finally concluded that the only way to escape was to die. But I ended up telling myself . . . It’s not my fault. It’s all  _his_  fault! It’s all Yuki’s fault! My hopes . . . that damn rat took it all! Because of Yuki . . .

“This way . . . I created a hateful ‘bad guy’ that I could give all my responsibilities to. I wanted to pretend . . . to forget everything that had happened to me. All I had to do . . . was hate. It was a very easy way. It was comfortable . . . like magic . . . to shift the blame. All my life, I had been doing that to make myself feel better. Am I not the worst?”

_No, you’re not. You are human and what you do just makes you even more human!_  Tohru wanted to shout these words, but they wouldn’t form in her mouth. She curled her hands into tight fist as she fought to speak, but still, all she could do was listen.

“So finally . . . I became fine . . . came down from the mountain. I decided to live with my hatred. So . . . I went to find Yuki. I didn’t expect to see you. Can you . . . ever forgive me? I ran away. I’m always running away. Even when I met you, I pretended not to see you. I didn’t say a thing. . . . I can’t forgive myself. . . . I will _not_ forgive myself. I don’t want you to forgive me.”

_No, no, no! This wasn’t fair!_  Tohru screamed in her head, but those weren’t the words that came from her mouth.

“‘I won’t forgive you.’” The words were a repeat. She wasn’t saying them and she never would, not to him. Because it wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t. Already Tohru could feel the tears pooling in her eyes and she fought to control them as she looked Kyo straight in the eye.

“Do . . . I have to say that? Forgive you or not forgive you . . . are those my only choices?”

Her hands were shaking now, and an anger she had never known filled her body.

“M-mother . . . I don’t believe my mother would say such a thing to you! I can’t believe it. But . . . if . . . if she really said that, then . . . I . . . I have to be against her!” There it was, those words Tohru had been trying to spit out since Kyo had first told her about her mother. And now it was all coming up, like the gate to a dam being forced open. It was all overflowing and flooding out of her and the words came so easily.

“Because . . . it’s . . . _me_. . . . Don’t you understand? . . .  _I just love you!_ ”

The tears came after the words, flowing down Tohru’s face freely now that the words that had been holding her back for so long were out for all to see. Kyo looked speechless, shocked at her sudden confession and then he looked away.

“. . . Your love . . . is an illusion. . . .”

Tohru felt like she had been socked in the gut.

She had finally admitted it and there it was . . . she was turned down. Kyo turned around and sprinted away. Tohru heard movement behind her and then Yuki’s voice floated up to her ears.

“KYO! WAIT!”

Yuki ran past her to chase after Kyo, but stopped at the last moment and turned to look at her. Tohru vaguely wondered how much he had heard.

“Honda-san.” There was an awkward pause and Yuki rested his hand on her shoulder as he called out her name again. “Honda-san . . . you should go inside and get cleaned up. You might catch a cold.” With that said, he turned to go after Kyo. Tohru heard him mutter “Idiot,” before he disappeared.

Tohru stood there for a long moment – it had stopped raining but she wasn’t sure when that had happened – and she thought about going inside, but her body walked forward instead. She wanted to go after them, wanted to try again before she lost her nerve. The sound of rustling bushes caught her attention and she turned toward it.

Surprise flitted across her face when Akito stepped out. 

* * *

 

Life was never fair, nothing ever went right, and something always had to happen to the few good people that populated the planet.

That’s what Kagura thought when she had first received the news of Tohru and Kureno being in the hospital.

Life wasn’t fair – it never was and it never would be.

Kagura waited anxiously by the front door to the main estate, shifting side to side on her feet with Kisa at her side crying softly. It was because she had been waiting there that she was the first to see Shigure arrive with Akito tucked safely under his arm. Kagura let them go by without a word, but as soon as Akito was out of earshot, she pounced on Shigure, demanding information.

“I went to the hospital, and Akito was examined, but nothing was wrong, so we came home,” was all Shigure would tell her.

Nothing about Tohru and nothing about Kureno, and when Kisa asked if Harry knew, Shigure didn’t have an answer for that either; but apparently no one could find Harry to tell him anything.

So no, life wasn’t fair . . . not for anyone, not for them – especially not for them.

Tohru being in the hospital from falling off of a cliff effected everyone a whole lot more than one would have thought, but then again, none of them could really help it. Tohru was a figure in all of their lives – she helped them sort themselves out, helped them resist against something that had been slowly strangling them all, and they couldn’t even help her now with this one thing.

Kagura never felt so useless . . . or so hopeless. 

* * *

 

_It would be great if we could all just go through life without making a single mistake._

That phrase kept repeating itself over and over again in Yuki’s head. Through those long hours in the waiting room and the long walk home, over and over again.

And then it was gone and a new thought replaced it.

_What the hell was Kyo doing?_

And that was the thought that lead Yuki upstairs to Kyo’s room. That was the thought that lead him to unleash his normally controlled anger.

The door was the first to receive some of him anger when he pulled it open so forcefully, he almost ripped it off its hinges.

“The hospital . . . why didn’t you come,” he demanded before he was even inside the room.

Kyo didn’t bother to answer him; he just continued to look out the window where he was sitting. Yuki felt his anger boil further.

“Oh,” the rat said mildly. “So you have the time to sit here and do nothing.”

Still no answer.

“You are so low.”

Yuki’s voice had turned icy.

“Say whatever you want . . .” Kyo said in a nonchalant tone which only further infuriated Yuki. “But even if I were there, I would only hurt her. I can’t protect her. I think it would be better if you were with her.”

Each word out of Kyo’s mouth was like gasoline to fire.

Yuki didn’t know how stupid a person could get.

“Oh . . .” he said, keeping his tone mild, letting a bit of sarcasm seep through. “I see . . .”

Yuki moved, walking over so that he stood before his cousin. And then he did something he had never done before.

He threw the first punch.

Kyo crashed into the book case, the force rattling the shaky shelf and causing a few books to fall down onto the floor.

“‘You can’t protect’,” Yuki questioned, and his control was now slipping, anger seeped into his voice, saturating his words. “What the _hell_ is . . . ‘You can’t protect?’ So, would you be satisfied if you could catch someone who was falling off a cliff? Or if you could somehow wonderfully save someone from being run over by a car? That would be _wonderful_!”

Sarcasm flowed easily over the venom pooling out of his mouth. Yuki wasn’t exactly sure where all this rage was coming from, but it was damn well time for him to release it, and Kyo was the perfect target.

“ _Who do you think you are, some kind of superhero?_  You’re just a stupid cat!”

And there it was.

The flash of anger that turned his eyes cat-like, and now Kyo was retaliating, fighting back with a familiar anger.

“Shut the hell up,” the red-head shouted. “I’m not that sort of person! That’s your job, isn’t it? I’d be more like you if I could! I wanted to be you!”

And that was it.

Those words triggered something inside of Yuki that he swore was never there.

He just snapped.

His next fist hit Kyo just above his eye, but he wasn’t done yet.

“Shut the fuck up,” Yuki screamed, yelling louder than he ever had before. He tackled Kyo to the floor, pushing him back as he drew back his fist to punch Kyo again. “Shut the fuck up! . . . Shut the fuck up! SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT . . .” Kyo grabbed his hand, stopping the next attack, but the anger was still there, so Yuki let them go through his words, his grip on Kyo’s collar almost strangling to startled teen.

“THAT WAS ME!  _I_  wanted to be  _you_!  _I_  idolized  _you_. Idolizing . . . idolizing . . . idolizing . . . and yet you say it first so easily! Shut the fuck up! SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

Yuki snatched his hand back violently and stood up. Anger still coursed through his veins, so much so that his hands were shaking.

“. . . But you are Kyo, and I am Yuki, and that’s the way it is. I can only be myself, and I accept that. It’s the only way I can face myself.” And then the anger spiked again out of nowhere. Yuki had never acted so violently before, and he lashed out at Kyo’s door by kicking it in half. “YOU’VE BEEN PROTECTING HER!”

When he turned around to face Kyo again, there were tears in his eyes and that only made him angrier. Kyo looked both startled and scared.

“You’ve been protecting her! She was happy. Content . . . true, there might have been small things, but you were a hero. You didn’t have any superpowers, but you were beside her . . . smiling and laughing, right! Do you really think it would be the same if I were beside her? You should realize . . . there are some things that only you can do! So don’t make her cry! Be strong!”

Yuki stopped. His breathing was heavy and he let all his anger at Kyo drain away as he tried to get his breathing under control. But Kyo was just standing there, staring at him like an idiot. Yuki glared over at him and crossed his arms.

“Why are you still doing nothing? I, the one you admire so much, am saying this to you, stupid cat.”

Kyo looked away and didn’t hesitate as he walked out of the room. Yuki didn’t bother to watch him go, instead dropping his gaze to the floor as tears filled his eyes again.

“I really don’t like that guy,” he said to himself and left it at that. 

* * *

 

“For a while, not even close friends and family were allowed to visit,” Yuki was telling Haru a few days later during the free period toward the end of the school day. “It seems that all the initial check-ups and whatnot are done, so starting today, anyone is free to visit.”

“Hmm, I see,” was Haru’s oh so intelligent reply. “Good. . . .Oh, so that’s why Momiji left school early today.”

“Eh? Momiji played hooky so he could visit the hospital?”

Haru shrugged.

“Probably . . .”

Yuki laughed and shook his head slowly.

“Honda-san will feel bad. . . . I mean everyone’s going to visit her,” Yuki said, his thoughts going to Tohru’s grandfather who supposedly threw his back out a while ago. He could just image the girl fretting now.

“Yes, but . . . Kyo seems to be in a tricky situation. . . .”

Yuki looked over at where Kyo was standing, looking like he was facing a firing squad as he stood in front of Arisa and Saki. Yuki could practically feel the malevolent aura flowing from out of the two girls.

Yuki laughed darkly to himself on the inside and turned his attention back to Haru.

“I suppose,” he said mildly.

“I see . . . and have you seen Potter-san as of late?”

Here Yuki sighed. “No,” was his answer. “He hasn’t come back to the house at all. I’m not sure where he went.”

“Oh, well someone needs to find a way to tell him.” Yuki looked questioningly at Haru, waiting for him elaborate on the reasoning of his words. “I have a feeling Potter-san will act a lot more violently than Uotani-san and Hanajima-san.”

Yuki blinked and a thoughtful look came over his face.

“Huh, I think you may be right.” And then he chuckled. “Well, I feel sorry for Kyo.”

“Yup. . . .” Haru agreed with a nod. “So, are we going to visit Honda-san afterschool today?” 

* * *

 

Momiji was still at the hospital when Yuki and Haru arrived, but they were surprised to find him talking animatedly with Akito of all people.

And then there was Akito himself.

_He_   _looked like crap_ , was Yuki’s first thought, but then Yuki realized that it was because he had been crying. Well that was certainly a wake-up call.

“Hey guys,” Momiji called to them cheerfully when he spotted them. Akito looked up and then simply froze, but Yuki chose to ignore the behavior for the time being.

“Hello Momiji, Akito.”

Akito nodded back in greeting but didn’t say anything.

“Are you guys here to visit Tohru,” Momiji asked and when Haru nodded he jumped up. “Great, we’ll all go together.”

“Haven’t you already seen her,” Yuki asked as he watched Momiji pull Akito up off his seat and then start pushing him down the hall.

“Yup, but I wanna see her again.”

Yuki shared a look with Haru before shrugging and following after them. On the way there, Yuki lectured Momiji about skipping too much school, but the blonde simply laughed him off so he gave up.

“Tohru was real happy with the gift I bought her. She looks a lot better now. She said her granddad came to visit her earlier today. I think he was the first one here,” Momiji chattered on happily.

They had reached the door now and Momiji pulled it open with a flourish that was worthy of Ayame. The cheerful greeting that he had been about to shout came to an abrupt halt when he saw the strangers crowded around Tohru’s bed.

There were four blonds – a man, a woman, and two little toddlers – and another toddler with dark hair. The kids were over by the window, watching the two young adults with curious expressions. Yuki saw that there was something vaguely familiar about the man.

He held himself with a practice poise Yuki would likely associate with royalty, and with the way he looked, Yuki could understand why. He had a sculpture's face, with a strong aristocratic jaw and steel-colored eyes.

The woman, who might just be another high school student, was the opposite. She stood tall and proud, but there was a sense of vagueness about her and she was humming and swaying slightly where she stood. Her eyes were a deep misty blue that had a glazed look to them. And then there were the children. The blonds had the same eye color – bright emerald – but the dark haired boy had silver eyes, and he was obviously older than the blondes – who looked like they could be twins.

All five of them turned to look when the door open, and for a moment the two groups just stared at each other. Tohru seemed to be knocked out cold on her bed – looking a little too pale against the hospital sheets.

“Who are you,” Momiji was the first to ask. The man looked him over and then almost immediately dismissed him while the girl just continued to hum. It was one of the blonde toddlers that decided to break the ice.

The girl stood up from the floor, dusted off her skirt, and then practically pranced toward them with a wide smile. When she was in front of them she held out her hand formally.

“Hullo. I’m Lily,” she greeted politely, a British lit in her voice. Momiji blinked before bending down to shake her hand as he replied, “I’m Momiji.”

He went to let go of her hand but Lily held tight to it and then began to pull him further into the room.

“Okay, Momiji,” she said, somehow managing to pronounce his name properly despite the fact that she was probably no older than two. She pulled him over to the window and then reached out and tugged the blonde boy toward her.

“This is my twin brother, Lucian.” Then she let go of Lucian and waved her hand at the third boy. “And that's my older brother Teddy.” Momiji smiled at each one in turn and then turned around when Lily tugged him in that direction. “And that’s my father and that’s Aunty Luna.”

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Momiji said to them, but only to be polite. “Now would you care to tell me what you are doing in here?”

No one answered but before Momiji could press the matter, Lily tugged on his shirt to gain his attention. He looked down at her.

“Who are they,” she asked him, not pointing like most little kids would do, but nodding her head in their direction. Yuki was surprised at the manners of the girl, she was obviously well raised – she had the likeliness of a small queen.

“Um . . . those are my cousins, Yuki, Haru, and Akito.”

Lily let out a soft ‘oh’ and then let Momiji go and went to stand with her brothers.

“We really need to know why you’re here,” Yuki suddenly spoke up. The woman, Luna, hummed and nodded and then promptly sat down on the bed by Tohru’s feet.

“We are looking for someone,” she told them and Yuki was right, she was vague.

“Okay . . . and that person would be? . . . Maybe we can help you.”

“We don’t need your help, thank you very much,” the man drawled out snobbishly. He arched a brow at them as if daring them to contradict him, but they weren’t the one’s to say anything.

“Draco, play nice,” Luna scolded.

Draco – as they now knew the man to be called – leveled the girl with a look but said nothing. Luna turned away from him to look at them, her eyes trailing over each and every one of their figures before she answered their original question.

“We’re looking for Harry Potter.”

Now this certainly brought them up. Yuki knew they should have guessed; these people were obviously British even if their Japanese was very much perfect.

“Oh . . . um . . . we actually haven’t seen him in a while but if you hang around you might catch him.”

Draco, who had started gritting his teeth at the beginning of Yuki’s response, cursed lowly when the teen was done.

“Damn that Potter. I swear, when I get my hands on him . . .”

“Are you friends of Harry’s,” Luna asked, completely ignoring Draco’s mutterings as if it were something normal.

“Kind of,” Haru deadpanned. The girl nodded and hummed. “Are you?”

“We went to school together, so in a sense, yes, we are friends.”

Draco snorted at Luna’s answer before turning to look at the children.

“Come on all of you, we are leaving.”

The blondes immediately jumped up and ran to grab one of his hands, but Teddy trailed behind them looking a little downhearted. Luna stood up and drifted over to the boy and took his hand. As the group passed by them, Yuki heard Luna say, “Don’t worry Teddy, you’ll get to see your daddy soon enough.”

And then the group was gone.

“That was weird,” Haru said rather bluntly, but the others couldn’t help but agree. 

* * *

 

There was a large crowd of students milling around outside of classroom 3-D on Monday morning, and the majority of them were girls. When Arisa and Saki arrived at the class, they had thought it had something to do with Prince Yuki, but then said Prince appeared behind them, Haru and Kyo trailing behind him.

“What’s going on?”

Arisa shrugged and Saki didn’t bother to answer, so Yuki tapped a first-year girl on the shoulder and asked again. For a moment the girl couldn’t talk, she just stared up at him dumbly.

“Miss?”

“Oh,” she sort of gasped, shaking her head. “Sorry.”

Yuki smiled and waited patiently for her to answer his question and she did so by pointing back at the room.

“Two new foreign exchange students just showed up this morning, we’re all trying to get a good look.” Yuki’s brows arched in surprise and he looked over at the door to the classroom.

He had not been informed about any new students.

“Foreign exchange students,” Haru asked in a monotone once the girl had drifted off, no doubt to tell her friends that she just had a conversation with Prince Yuki Sohma.

“That’s stupid,” Arisa snorted. “We’re about to begin exams and it’s the end of the second semester.”

Yuki nodded in agreement before turning away.

“I’m going to go find out about this. I’ll be back but . . . um . . .” he glance over at a clock and then back at the large crowd. “Try and get them to leave.”

Arisa grinned and mock saluted him. Then she rubbed her hands together.

“This should be fun.”

The group was gone within minutes when they saw the two girls were trying to get into the room. Arisa groaned at the hasty departure but shrugged it off soon after.

There were only a few students in the class, and they were all trying to be inconspicuous as they tried to check out the two blondes sitting in the far corner of the room. Haru let out a monotonous ‘Oh,’ and then promptly left for his class.

Arisa shared a look with Saki and then the two trolled casually over to the new students. Not knowing what else to do, Kyo followed them at a safe distance.

“Hey, new guys!”

The blonde girl looked up, her blue eyes slightly unfocused, but the boy sitting next to her didn’t even twitch. At first glance the two looked like they could be siblings, but on closer inspection, you could tell that they weren’t.

The girl was on the short side, looking small in her seat, and her hair was a dirty blonde color. She wore the school skirt really long so that it dragged on the floor even while she sat, and under her top she wore a brightly tie-dyed shirt.

The boy was tall, around the Sohmas’ height, and he was slim but still had muscles. He had aristocratic features, a strong jaw, a straight nose, and a look of indifference in his grey eyes. The tie to the uniform was loosened slightly and the top button was deliberately undone. And there was a dark tattoo of a skull and snake on his left forearm.

“You guys the exchange students right,” Arisa asked, sitting down in the desk beside the girl. The girl blinked slowly, tilted her head to the side, and waited ten seconds before saying, “Yes, we are.”

Arisa nodded and stuck out her hand.

“Alright. I’m Uotani, Arisa and this is my friend Hanajima, Saki.”

“Lovegood, Luna,” the girl replied to the greeting, lifting her small hand a shaking Arisa’s. Her grip was very firm despite her frail appearance. “It’s nice to meet you. This is an acquaintance of mine, Malfoy, Draco.”

Kyo jerked a little at the name and he was now staring at Draco with open curiosity, but he didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to when the homeroom teacher trailed into the room, Yuki on her heels. 

* * *

 

The group, minus Tohru and Harry, met out by their usual tree for lunch, and it was only once they had sat down that Yuki told Saki, Arisa, and Kyo about what had happened at the hospital yesterday.

“They were just standing in her room,” Arisa nearly shouted and she threw a suspicious glare over her shoulder at Draco and Luna, who were sitting on a bench across the lawn.

“Yes, but they said they were looking for Potter-san.”

“Then what were they doing in Tohru’s room,” Saki questioned and Yuki didn’t really have an answer to that, seeing as the two blondes had ignored the question yesterday.

“Well, maybe they heard about Honda-san’s accident and knew that she was Potter-san’s cousin,” Haru suggested.

“But Potter-san said no one but he knew about that,” Yuki told him and so Haru shrugged.

“Whatever, I just don’t want that guy anywhere near Tohru,” Kyo suddenly said.

Arisa and Saki turned to look at him coolly.

“I don’t think you’re in any right to say something like that,” Saki spoke.

The others were in absolute agreement with her. Kyo sighed in frustration and when he spoke next, he aimed the question at Haru and Yuki.

“Don’t you know who that guy is?”

“I’m pretty sure his name was Malfoy, Draco.”

Kyo glared at Yuki.

“Yes,” he hissed. “The Malfoy guy from the paper in Britain. The ex-Death Eater or whatever.”

“The what,” Arisa questioned, thinking Kyo was trying to make some kind of joke. However, the shocked look on Yuki’s face made it clear that he wasn’t. “What? What? What’s wrong with the guy?”

“He’s dangerous, that’s what’s wrong with him.”

“Huh,” Arisa asked.

Yuki looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, and then he leaned in. The others had to lean in also to hear his low voice.

“My older brother did some digging on Potter-san and he came back with a whole bunch of newspapers. Potter-san is supposedly some kind of hero in Britain. There were all these murders and stuff going on over there a few years ago and he managed to catch the man causing it. But this guy had a bunch of followers that did all his dirty work and they were called Death Eaters. Malfoy-san was said to be one of these Death Eaters.”

Yuki leaned back and looked around at them. This was probably the first time he had ever seen Saki look shocked, and if the topic wasn’t so serious he would have tried to take a picture to document the moment.

“Well, damn,” Arisa whispered and then her expression darkened. “Well, we certainly can’t let that son of a bitch anywhere near Tohru.”

And again the others were in absolute agreement. 

* * *

 

Harry decided to go site seeing – which was sure to be the perfect distraction – and the first site he went to see was Tokyo, since he was already in Japan. He only stayed there for a few hours before he Disapparated to Australia, a place he had wanted to visit since Hermione mentioned it to him.

He roamed Sydney, trailed the outback, and marveled over the amount of kangaroos he saw there. Harry spent the rest of the day there and in the morning he Apparated to Egypt, where he saw how long the Nile really was. If he hadn’t been a wizard he was sure he wouldn’t have survived the day in Egypt. When people said that it had extreme weather, they weren’t kidding. The desert went from blisteringly hot to almost icy cold at night.

From there Harry Apparated to South America where he roamed the rainforest, all of it teeming with birds and jungle cats and monkeys. It was the first forest Harry had been in that was so full of life everywhere he turned. Harry then moved upward to Rio and then the United States. Harry actually spent two days in New York, marveling over the city that was Manhattan and its flashing lights and tall buildings. He felt like a child in a candy store.

And finally, Harry returned to Europe.

He spent a day in Germany and then another in France – he always wanted to see the place where Draco’s family hailed from – before he went to the British Isles. First his visited Scotland and then he returned home to England.

That was where he was now, roaming the busy city of London.

He had forgotten to put up a glamour in his haste to distract his mind, and so people could be seen turning around and pointing at him. Even in Muggle London he could not escape from the stares.

Yes, they were more subtle, but it was still annoying.

Sighing in irritation, Harry ducked into a hailed taxi and asked it to send him to the nearest park. The sun was out and shining brightly, but it was still spring, so the air was still slightly cool. The park was teeming with flowers in bloom. Bees and butterflies flew around and there was a pleasant hum in the atmosphere – like the Earth was letting out a content sigh.

Harry roamed around aimlessly, not paying any attention to where he was heading or who was around him, so he was very much surprised when he heard someone call out to him.

“Harry?”

Harry blinked and then turned to look at where the voice had come from.

He saw a group of people, two woman and three men. Four of them were gapping at him openmouthed, but the man in the middle just looked mildly shocked. He was caring a small baby in his strong arms and his other arm was wrapped around a brunette’s waist.

For a long while Harry didn’t know who this person was. He gave the man a polite smile – the one he reserved for all of his many fans, and turned to leave when something struck his as familiar. Harry turned back around quizzically and stared.

“Dudley,” Harry finally spluttered when he finally recognized the man.

He hadn’t seen Dudley Dursely since he had left Number 4 Privet Drive two days before he turned seventeen. That was at least six years ago.

Dudley had changed a lot, which was why Harry hadn’t recognized him. He had grown his hair out some so that it now brushed his ears. All that extra fat Harry remembered him having was gone now, turned it muscle from what Harry could see. He was dressed casually, stone-washed jeans, a blue T-shirt, nice trainers, but there was a soft pink baby bag hanging from his shoulder that kind of threw it all out of perspective.

“Blimey,” Dudley said and a smile worked its way across his face. “I haven’t seen you in ages.” Dudley walked forward and the people with him followed, still gapping at Harry as if he were some kind of alien. “I would have thought you’d vanished off the face of the Earth if you hadn’t have appeared in the paper ever other day.”

“Ugh, yeah,” Harry said back rather lamely.

“So what brings you around these parts?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably, not really knowing what was happening. Yes, Dudley had been very much civil to him in the end, but there was still that slight air of awkwardness hanging over Harry. How do you actually go from loathing the person who constantly beat you up as a child to being kind-of-sort-of friends with your only male cousin – adoptive or not?

“I was just . . . traveling around, jumping from place to place.” Dudley nodded, catching the subtle hint that Harry _actually_ was jumping from place to place. “So, um, what’s good with you?”

At this Dudley shrugged.

“Nothing much. I teach at a school around here, Gym, and I coach boxing.” This Harry could understand slightly. “Have you seen my parents yet?”

Harry winced at this and Dudley nodded, taking that for an answer.

The girl he had his arm around suddenly coughed and that seemed to remind Dudley of the company he was with.

“Oh, sorry,” he quickly apologized. He then grinned over at Harry. “Harry, this is my wife Gwen. These are her brothers Jake and Dylan, and that’s her friend Emily. Guys, this is my cousin, Harry.”

Harry gapped at Dudley, not sure if he heard him right. Did he just say wife?

“Oh, it’s nice to finally meet the famous Harry Potter,” Gwen said, giving his a winning smile. “I always read the paper to see what you’re up to next.”

“Um . . . thanks,” Harry muttered rather awkwardly. He was sure his publicist would have a fit if he heard him now.

“Mate, you did not tell us you were related to _the_ Harry Potter,” one of the guys – Jake maybe – said, slapping Dudley hard on the shoulder. The movement woke the baby in Dudley’s arms and he shot Jake a glare.

“Look what you did. Now she’ll never be able to get back to sleep.”

Harry watched in shock as Dudley made shushing motions and started rocking the baby.

“He’s just the perfect dad,” Emily said adoringly. Gwen rolled her eyes and elbowed her friend in the stomach before turning to Harry.

“Do you have any kids?”

“I . . . um . . . I sort of take care of my godson,” Harry said in a whisper. “He’s five now.”

“Oh,” Emily said, jumping into the conversation, and there was a gleam in her eye that Harry automatically recognized. “So you’re unattached?” Harry backed up reflexively. Gwen rolled her eyes again and her brothers grinned. Dudley had managed to calm his daughter and was now watching him curiously with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Actually I am, but I’m gay,” Harry was quick to tell her. Emily’s face fell and Dudley burst into loud laughter, Jake and Dylan following.

“Aww, don’t worry Em, there are more fish in the sea,” Dylan tried to console, patting her softly on the back. Emily looked up and glared at him.

“I’m still not going to date you Dylan.”

This only made everyone laugh again and even Harry let out a small chuckle.

These friends of Dudley weren’t too bad and his wife seemed nice enough. Harry studied her for a bit and then looked at the baby in Dudley’s arms. She was looking back at Harry with focused blue eyes, and it was then that Harry caught the taste of grapefruits.

Harry’s eyes widened slightly.

“Um . . . Dudley, can I talk with you for a second,” Harry said, cutting through the light atmosphere. Dudley’s brow rose but he immediately handed his daughter over to her mother and motioned for Harry to walk with him.

“Do you know that your daughter is a witch,” Harry blurted out once they had walked a far enough distance so that the others couldn’t overhear them. Dudley blinked in surprise.

“Actually, no,” he said and then he shrugged.

“Wait . . . you don’t care,” Harry asked carefully.

“Well, not really. I mean, you’re magic, so it can’t be bad.”

Harry blinked. Just how much had Dudley changed since he had last seen him?

“Oh . . . I see.”

The two were silent for a while and Harry looked over at the group that was still standing there, waiting for Dudley.

“Harry.” Harry turned to see that Dudley was staring at him deeply. “What are you really doing here? And don’t you dare try and feed me some cock-and-bull about just popping in because you felt like it.”

Harry, who had opened his mouth to give that exact excuse, let his mouth fall close. He was surprise, since when had Dudley known him so well?

“I . . .” Harry didn’t know what to say. Come to think about it, he didn’t really know why he was here either. Here, in a park on a fairly sunny day, just like in his dream. Harry sighed and told the truth. “I’m here to distract myself.”

“From what?”

“My thoughts, my dreams, everything,” Harry said in a rush. He looked down at his feet and then found himself confiding in Dudley what he hadn’t wanted to tell Cho or anyone magical that knew him.

“My mum was adopted.”

Harry heard Dudley draw in a breath and when he looked up Dudley looked globsmacked.

“Wha? Bu? How,” he stammered. Harry was about to explain, but Dudley threw up his arms. “Wait! Does my mother know about this?”

At this Harry shrugged.

“She might not remember or she forgot or something.”

Dudley shook his head slowly.

“So . . . did you find her real parents?” Harry nodded and a lump formed in his throat when he thought about the people that were supposed to be his grandparents. “What were they like?”

“They’re worse than your parents,” Harry immediately blurted out and then added, “No offence,” as an afterthought. Dudley shrugged it off.

“None taken. So, did you find anything else out?”

“Yeah,” Harry said on a sigh, his shoulders drooping. “Mum had a little sister but they never got the chance to meet.”

“Well that’s —” The rest of Dudley’s sentence died at Harry’s next words.

“She’s dead.” Dudley winced at that and looked pityingly at his cousin. Just about everything happened to him.

“That’s . . .”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry said quietly. A silence fell over them again before Harry broke it. “But I have a younger cousin. Her name’s Tohru.”

“Tohru,” Dudley repeated, an eyebrow arched. “What kind of name is that?”

“It’s Japanese. My mum’s half Japanese.”

That seemed to surprise Dudley but then he shrugged it off. He was taking all of this in stride so far, normal people would have faint from the information overload by now.

“Okay, what’s Tohru like?”

This question brought a smile to Harry’s lips.

“She’s like the gullible traveler.”

Both eyebrows rose at these words and Dudley wondered why this seemed to make Harry smile. Didn’t that make this girl an easy target? As if he had read his mind – which he might have what with magic and all – Harry laughed and said, “But she has these two bodyguards. Actually, you could say she has an army.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry mimicked zipping his mouth and then grinned cheekily up at Dudley. “Harry!”

“Okay, okay,” he conceded. “So Tohru just happens to be an orphan also, her dad died when she was really young. And I’m not quite sure how it happened, but she’s living with this large family. And when I say large I mean large, they’re practically their own community.”

Dudley whistled lowly at that and Harry nodded, his grin still in place.

“Yeah. And just about everyone loves her. That’s just how Tohru is. So you may think she’s an easy target, but she’s very much protected.”

“And then there’s you,” Dudley added and then elaborated at Harry’s questioning look. “Well, you’re obviously not going to let anyone get close to her. You’re like an army yourself, right?”

Harry shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Dudley chuckled and shook his head.

“They’re magic too, although they don’t know it.”

“How do you not know? Didn’t weird stuff happen around them like with you?”

Harry shrugged.

“Probably, but the family also happens to be cursed, so . . .”

Dudley whistled lowly again and shook his head.

“You meet the strangest people Harry.” Harry laughed at that before saying, “You don’t know the half of it Dud.” 

* * *

 

Harry spent the day with Dudley and his family.

Gwen was like a pleasant mixture between Ginny, Hermione, and something incredibly sweet. Harry had fallen in love with her as quickly as he had with Tohru. Gwen’s brothers were like the twins and Charlie mixed together, although Dylan had a bit of a sensitive side. And then there was Emily. She was nice enough, but she seemed like she couldn’t stop flirting with him. But it seemed harmless enough, so Harry left her alone.

And then there was little Amaryllis. She was so small and happy. Harry always saw her smiling a bright gummy smile. Dudley let him hold her and Harry was wrapped right around her finger. She was an absolute angel.

The group went out to have lunch and Harry got to know all of them better. They all seemed to like following the news and Harry. Supposedly, it was inspiring to see someone the same age as them accomplish something the best of the best couldn’t. Gwen had been very much surprised when she found out that Harry didn’t work for any force, or work at all, that is until he told her that he had family money and was set for a while and he was simply exploring.

“So what are you into right now,” Gwen questioned looking completely entrapped.

Harry shrugged.

“I’m in school. Japanese high school.” Gwen looked confused, as did all the others. “They happen to have a lot of stuff that I didn’t learn in my old school,” he explained. Dudley immediately caught on and told the others that Harry had gone to a school that had focused on a single aspect instead of many.

“Oh, so you’re just expanding,” Emily clarified and Harry nodded.

“That’s good.” Gwen said smartly, sounding a little bit like a mom. “But enough work and all that boring stuff.” Gwen leaned forward a little and asked, “Do you have your eye on anyone?”

Harry turned a dark red and the others caught it.

“Oo! Do tell,” Emily demanded, her eyes bright. Harry shook his head quickly and leaned back as they closed in on him.

“Come on Harry, it’s not like we’ll tell anyone. We probably won’t even know who it is,” Dudley pushed. Harry shook his head again.

“Please,” Gwen begged, pinning him with those large blue eyes.

“I . . . It’s nothing really. Just a small fling a few years back. There’s nothing to tell?”

“Doesn’t sound like it to me,” Emily observed.

Harry shot her a mutinous look and she shrugged it off.

“Oh, is it that guy they mentioned in the paper. Draco something right,” Jake jumped in. Harry’s eyes widened and that was enough conformation for them. “Well damn. That wasn’t a small fling. That was a one night stand!”

“Sh,” Harry told him, waving him down when his voice rose up. “Shut up. And it _wasn’t_ a one night stand.” All five of them looked at him skeptically. “Okay, so maybe it was a one night thing, but I knew him before that.”

“And were you involved before that,” Gwen questioned.

“Well . . . no. Actually we hated each others’ guts and we were always fighting. I can’t tell you how many times we landed each other in the hospital wing . . . but that’s beside the point.”

“Hardly,” Jake muttered.

Harry shot him a glare.

“All that fighting must have just been sexual frustration,” Dylan told him matter-of-factly. Harry’s eyes widened and his face flushed.

“It was not,” he snapped defensively.

“Obviously it was if you two ended up in bed, probably drunk,” Jake pointed out.

“I was not drunk, because I can’t get drunk!” Jake and Dylan looked skeptical. “Look, whatever. Can we move on from this topic?”

“But it just got interesting,” Dudley protested and the two girls nodded in agreement.

Harry looked around at all of them, staring at him eagerly. Even Amaryllis looked like she was enjoying this.

Harry groaned and let his head drop onto the table in front of him. 

* * *

 

Hiro was very nervous as he walked with Kisa to the hospital, and it wasn’t because he was alone with Kisa. He was nervous because he was worried, although he would never admit that to that stupid girl. The hand he was holding was shaking and it was only that that kept him from showing his nerves, because Kisa was scared.

“Do you think we can do anything for them,” Kisa asked in a small voice. Hiro looked over at her to see her looking down at the ground.

“I don’t know. We can try with Kureno, but . . .” Kisa nodded at the end of Hiro’s unfinished sentence.

They had both been studying the many books Harry had bought for them, and one of them had healing charms in it. But since they didn’t know what sort of injuries Tohru had, it would be extremely dangerous to try a spell on her.

“Okay, let’s go see Kureno-san first.”

And that’s what they did.

Akito’s attack had severed a nerve in Kureno’s body that would give a normal person a permanent limp, but with the healing charms they knew and practiced, Hiro was certain that they’d be able to heal him.

Kureno was staring out at the window when they walked in, a book propped open in his lap. Judging by the language written in it, Hiro guessed that it was one of the books the man had picked up in Diagon Alley.

“Kureno-san, how are you,” Kisa asked, walking over to stand beside him.

“I’m fine,” Kureno told her, giving her a small sincere smile. Kisa nodded and fiddled with the wand she had pulled out of her pocket.

“Um . . . I . . . we want to try something that might help,” Kisa told him. Kureno looked curious but nodded for her to go ahead.

A whispered spell later, and he was completely healed.

“Thank you, Kisa-chan,” Kureno thanked, patting her fondly on the head as he stood up. Kisa blushed red and beamed brightly.

“We were just going to visit Tohru; do you want to come with us,” Hiro asked and when Kureno nodded, the three left the room and headed for Tohru’s.

The door was wide open and so was the window. A warm breeze was blowing into the room, making the curtains flutter. Tohru’s bed was unmade and a chair was turned on its side. The machine that should have been connected to Tohru was flat-lining, the single tone sounding horribly ominous.

Kisa let out a small gasp and then collapsed into Kureno’s arms – he had to hold her carefully so that she wouldn’t transform.

At the older man’s command, Hiro ran out of the room and went to inform the nurses.

Tohru was gone. 

* * *

 

Harry whistled to himself as he walked the paved path to Shigure’s house.

He felt oddly refreshed after the day he had spent in London with Dudley. It felt good to catch up with someone that was not Cho. Harry hadn’t realized how lonely he had been feeling. Maybe that was the reason for his past restlessness.

He entered the house with a grin that disappeared when he walked into the living room to find it filled.

Shigure, Ayame, and Hatori were huddled together toward the back near the door, their expressions grim. Momiji was sitting in the corner, his arms wrapped around his knees, and his head bowed. Haru was holding Rin, rocking her as she buried her face into his chest. Yuki was missing as was Kyo. Kisa, Hiro, and Kureno sat on the couch, they were facing everyone else and Kisa looked pale white.

It was only those three that turned when Harry entered.

“What happened,” he immediately asked. “Where’s Tohru? What’s going on?”

Kisa suddenly burst into apologies, tears running down her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry. You were gone and something happened and Onee-chan fell off a cliff, and then we went to see her but she was  _gone_!”

“ _What_ ,” Harry demanded. What the hell had happened when he was gone? It had only been a week or two at most and already things had taken a turn for the worst.

“I’m so sorry,” Kisa wailed again.

Harry stared at her dumbfound, at a loss of words.

It was silent except for Kisa’s sobs. And then someone else walked into the room. Harry turned to look at them.

Akito looked like shit.

She looked worse that Kisa did, with her eyes red and her hair mussed-up.

“You’re back,” she said, her voice very low and raspy. Harry nodded, still too shocked to speak. “I take it someone told you what happened?”

“I . . . wait . . . what?”

“Tohru’s missing. Have any ideas on how to find her?”

Harry blinked then shook his head to clear his thoughts. He wasn’t normally this muddled in a crisis.

“Yeah, maybe, but first I have to —”

The rest of Harry’s words were cut off by a loud outcry of “Daddy,” and then Harry was knocked to the floor by a flying five-year-old. Harry groaned as his back hit the ground and then looked down to see a mess of dark black hair.

“T-teddy?”

The boy looked up and grinned up at Harry with a set of perfectly straight, white teeth.

“What are you doing here? Where’d you come from?”

“Aunty Luna and Uncle Draco brought us,” Teddy told him brightly. Harry blanched and looked around Teddy’s head to see Luna and Draco standing in the doorway, Lily in Luna’s arms and Lucian in Draco’s arms.

“Hi, Daddy,” the twins chorused waving at him with bright smiles.

“Hi,” Harry said back, breathlessly. He stood up slowly, his eyes locked onto molten silver.

“Hullo Harry, it’s good to see you again,” Luna called pleasantly. Harry nodded and shifted his gaze to her. He adjusted Teddy in his arms.

“Same here, but what are you doing here?”

“Visiting you, of course,” Luna said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world; and to her it probably was.

“Yes, and I have some business with you, Potter,” Draco cut in icily. “About a certain piece of news you failed to give me.”

Harry winced at that. He knew what Draco was talking about, that stupid article of Rita Skeeter’s.

“Um . . . okay, but could we do this later, I have more pressing matters at the moment,” Harry told them.

“We already know about that. It’s why we are here in this,” – Draco paused and looked around in distaste – “house. We felt something at the hospital a while ago. Something that wasn’t supposed to be there.”

Harry’s eyes widened as a sudden realization flashed across his face.

“Shit,” he cursed. He set Teddy down on the floor and began to pace. “I’m such an idiot!”

“What else is new,” Draco cut in, but Harry didn’t seem to hear him.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see this. Ugh! I knew I shouldn’t have come here! Bloody hell, this is all my fault! Damn, I can’t believe this. Now of all times! And it just had to happen when I wasn’t around! Damn it!”

“Potter, I suggest you calm down before you level this dump,” Draco told him mildly when things began to rattle because of Harry’s uncontrolled anger. Magic was coming off of him in waves now, spreading around so that some things were floating.

Harry looked up at Draco’s suggestion and then pulled in his magic when he noticed it was affecting his surroundings.

“What the hell was that!”

Harry looked over at the door. He hadn’t noticed Kyo and Yuki arriving.

He looked at them then around the room before saying, “Sit down, we have to talk.”

“Now,” Kyo demanded incrudiously.

Harry noticed that he looked unnaturally ragged and pale, not that Yuki looked any better.

“Yes now, so sit before I make you and you don’t want to force my hand.” Kyo growled but he did as he was told, not really having the energy to argue.

“Daddy,” Lily called out to him from Luna’s arms. “What’s happening?”

Harry shot the girl a smile.

“Don’t worry, Lils, Daddy has some work to do, okay?”

Lily nodded her head dutifully and settled more comfortably in Luna’s arms. Harry sighed and then sat down on the couch beside Kureno. Teddy crawled into his lap and Luna and Draco went to stand behind them.

“Alright, before I go to get Tohru I need to tell you all something. This may surprise you but try and keep your outburst to yourself.” Here he shot a glare at Kyo who huffed and crossed his arms. Harry took a deep breath before saying, “I’m a wizard.”

“You’re joking,” Yuki said after a long bit of silence.

Harry shook his head.

“No, I’m not. In fact, you might want to know that you are all wizards also.”

Yuki looked skeptical as did the others that did not already know.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but it’s actually true,” Hiro spoke up. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out the wand Harry had bought for him. Kisa and Kureno mimicked his move, pulling out their wands.

“Wait . . . so you guys knew about this,” Akito demanded in a slightly accusing tone.

“Yeah, they did because I told them, just like I’m telling you. And I have a theory. I’m guessing that the curse you have chooses who to posses based on the magical potential you have.”

“Curse,” Draco muttered lowly, but Harry didn’t acknowledge him.

“It does,” Kureno told him. “I read about it in the book that I picked up.”

“Well there you go.”

“Okay, so you’re a wizard and we’re wizards,” Haru said. “What does this have to do with Honda-san’s disappearance?”

Harry took a deep breath and braced himself for their reaction to the next piece of news he was about to deliver.

“I think Tohru was kidnapped, and that her kidnapper is trying to get at me.”

“What! Why,” Kyo exploded, jumping out of his seat. Harry stared at him until he sat down again and then spoke again.

“You should all know; you guys did do a little digging on me.”

“Does this have to do with that man you killed,” Hatori asked.

Harry’s eyes darkened and his expression turned stony, his mouth spread into a thin line.

“First of all, Voldemort” – Draco shivered at the name – “was no  _man_. He was a monster who wanted to kill innocents so that he could get power. And yes, this does have to do with me killing him.”

“You killed someone,” Akito asked with wide eyes.

“Look. Let’s get a few things out into the air. That  _monster_  killed my parents when I was barely one. His minions,” – Draco flinched violently when Harry said this with all the venom he could muster – “killed my godfather and Teddy’s parents. They tortured my friends and made my life a living hell. He tried to kill me on a number of occasions, so it was either die or kill. I did what I had to do then.”

The room was silent after Harry’s short monologue. No one knew what to say after hearing what he had to go through and they were sure it was only a small portion of his life.

“So . . . do you . . . um . . . know who took her?” Momiji asked, breaking the silence and looking over at him with large brown eyes. Harry sighed and relaxed his shoulders, leaning back into the seat. He leveled all of them with a look.

“No, but if I can see the room she was in I can find out.”

And that was what led some of the group to the hospital later on. Upon entering the room Teddy started growling lowly. He clutched the collar of Harry’s shirt tightly in his small hands and Harry saw his eyes flash yellow.

“Damn, this just got worse,” Harry muttered when he caught the scent of magic in the room.

“What? Do you know who did it?”

Harry nodded, but he didn’t turn to look at Momiji.

He looked over at Draco when he said, “Greyback took her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun Dun Dun! Bet none of you were expecting that. Well once again I surprise myself by adding someone I had not planned on including in the story. Tell me what ya’ll think about my Dudley, k? I hope he meet’s your standards!


	7. Home is Where the Heart Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a time line in case some of you are super confused. I know I got confused just writing this! O.O
> 
> Lily Naruse Evans – born in 1960  
> Lily (4) – adopted by the Evans – Petunia (6) – 1964  
> Lily (10) – Kyoko is born – 1970  
> Lily (20) – Kyoko (10) – Harry is born – July 31, 1980 – Draco born June 5th  
> Lily (21) – Kyoko (11) – Voldemort kills the Potters – October 31, 1981  
> Harry (6) – Kyoko (16) – Tohru is born – August 26, 1986  
> Harry (9) – Tohru (3) – Kyoko (19) – Katsuya dies of pneumonia – 1989  
> Harry (11) – Tohru (5) – Harry gets Hogwarts letter – 1991 – Tohru gets lost  
> Harry (17) – Tohru (11) – War ends – May 2nd, 1998 – Teddy born April 10th   
> Harry (19 – 20) – Tohru (13 – 14) – Twins conceived and birthed Nov. 19, 2000  
> Harry (22) – Tohru (16) – comes to Japan in search of relatives – March 28, 2003  
>  Tohru gets kidnapped – May 13, 2003

Kisa watched worriedly as Harry paced back and forth in front of her. She could practically fell the nervous energy flowing off of him in waves. The man, Draco, was watching Harry with a blank expression when he suddenly snapped.

“For Salazar’s sake Potter, would you quit your pacing? You’re making me dizzy.”

Harry paused, but only so he could throw Draco a dirty look.

“And what would you rather I do, huh, Malfoy,” Harry demanded before he continued his pacing.

“For the love of . . .” Draco growled under his breath. “Potter, you will desist at once or I will make you.”

Harry shot the blonde another glare but did not stop pacing. Kisa drew back in her chair. She could now feel the tension that was filling the room and she was sure the others could as well, for they were now watching the two anxiously.

Draco stood suddenly and his hand retreated to his pocket, however Harry reacted faster.

Before anyone could so much as blink, Harry had his wand drawn and was pointing it in Draco’s face.

“Don’t even try it.”

Draco sneered at Harry but didn’t try to reach for his wand again.

Harry growled lowly before swiftly turning away, dropping his wand arm as he did.

“Alright then,” he suddenly shouted, his voice sounding unnecessarily loud in the deafening silence. He threw his hands up and turned back around to look Draco in the face. “What would you rather have me do, huh? What should I do then Malfoy?”

Draco rolled his eyes and seemed to think Harry overall behavior to be slightly demeaning.

“Honestly Potter, you’re not even thinking,” he drawled and Kisa never thought anyone could sound so insulting by saying something so . . . helpful? Well she thought he was trying to be helpful, she couldn’t really tell.

“These are Death Eaters,” Draco continued to say in a neutral tone. “I’m sure you remember what they’re like. So they probably won’t even kill her. Their goal is obviously to try and get to you.” While he spoke, Draco looked Harry straight in the eyes. Now he looked down at his nails and said the next part in an uncaring voice. “They’ll probably just try and torture some information on you out of her. Not that she’s likely to have any, and at least she won’t end up like your parents anytime soon.”

There was a long beat of silence in which everyone stared at Draco in shock. And then Harry let out a loud cry of rage and jumped at him.

It happened so quickly that no one could react.

Draco stumbled back and fell onto the table before rolling onto the floor, Harry on top of him – trying to cause as much damage as possible.

It took both Kyo and Yuki to pull the enraged man off of the blonde, and by then Draco was sporting a bloody nose and a slowly bruising jaw – Kisa could see the purpling on his pale skin, like a dark stain on a white sheet.

Harry was screaming obscenities and struggling against Kyo and Yuki’s hold – both of whom had to exert extreme strength to keep him in place.

It was Luna who managed to calm him.

She stepped in front of Harry’s view of Draco, placed both hands on his face and quite sharply said, “Harrison stop this at once.”

Harry stared blankly at her for a long moment before he slumped down in defeat.

Yuki and Kyo released him and Harry slumped down to the floor, his face buried in his knees. From the slight shaking of his shoulder, Kisa assumed he was crying.

Luna then whirled on Draco, who was still lying on his back, looking rather alarmed at his sudden attack. The woman took one look at him, shook her head sadly, and said in a voice of immense disappointment, “I thought you were smarter than this.”

Draco focused on her, looking outraged.

He sputtered but no words came out of his mouth. Kisa, however, could see the question in his eyes, clearly asking ‘What did I do?’

Luna seemed to see it also, because she went on.

“I’d have thought you would know better what things you can and can’t say to Harrison. After all, you’ve been saying all the wrong things for years. But to think that now, during something like this, that you’d be so callous . . .” Luna shook her head in disgust. “Let me ask you this,  _Malfoy_ ,” Draco flinched at the sound of his family’s name leaving Luna’s mouth like a whip. “Did you really think Harrison’s love for you gave you immunity? Did you even think for one moment, that this situation might be causing him more harm than even the wars did? Did you even  _think_?”

Draco didn’t even try to answer the questions, and Luna didn’t wait for him to. She turned around, picked Harry up – much to everyone’s surprise – and cradled him in her arms like he was some kind of small child.

Then she left the room in a silence more stifling than the first. 

* * *

 

It wasn’t long before Harry came back – Luna trailing calmly behind him.

His eyes were red, but his face was harder than before. Kisa had never seen such an intense look on someone before, a look that screamed power and the means to wield it.

“I’ve figured out a plan now,” he immediately said, and his voice was just as hard as his expression. He looked around the room to see every eye on him before he continued on. “I can’t leave any of you here, there’s no telling who they’ll try to take hostage next. And Malfoy’s right, they won’t kill Tohru, not if they’re trying to lure me out.”

“Why you,” Hiro was the first to ask the question.

Harry looked at him for such a long time, that Kisa actually saw Hiro squirm.

“Because of the position I had in the war.” Was the answer that left Harry’s lips, but it didn’t really help to clear anything up.

“Look,” Harry then said, cutting across Yuki before he could even form the question Kisa knew was burning on his tongue – it certainly was burning on hers. “It’s a really long story and now is not the time.” When no one else tried to say anything Harry continued on. “So here’s the plan. First, we can’t stay here. It’s not safe, we have no protection, and I don’t even know where the nearest Wizarding area is.”

“So where do you suggest we go,” Haru questioned his voice sounding – surprisingly – more deadened than ever before.

“London, obviously, at least there I know what to expect, who I can trust, and so on,” Harry informed them. “And we need to go now. The Death Eaters obviously know where I am, or at least the general location. How they know that, I’m not sure.”

“It’s an old dark spell,” Draco spoke up softly from where he was sitting on the couch. When Harry focused his intense gaze on the blonde, he went on. “What it does is creates a list of all living members of a certain person’s family. It also tells their current location and status. Some Death Eater created it during the first war. I think the Dark Lord wanted to use it so that he could flush out your mother by killing off her family.”

A look of rage flashed across Harry’s face at this tidbit of information, and for a moment his eyes seemed to blaze with fire. Kisa saw his jaw clench, as did his fist, and for a moment he seemed beyond words. It took Kisa only a minute to realize that, with this spell, not only could they track Tohru, but they could also track Harry’s kids.

“Okay, so we need to clear out now, how exactly are we going to do that? There’s probably not even a plane scheduled to leave for London today,” Hatori informed them, pointing out a somewhat crucial piece of information.

As one, Luna and Draco turned to look at him and asked, simultaneously, “A what?”

Hatori blinked, looking perplexed and quite suddenly Harry burst into laughter. Everyone stared at him quizzically and after a moment he managed to catch his breath so that he could explain.

“Guys, a plane is that metal machine Muggles fly in to get across seas.”

Realization crossed both of the blondes’ faces.

“You mean that Muggle contraption that’s always falling out of the sky? Why on Earth would we get on  _that_  death trap?”

Kisa giggled a little at that, although she had to wonder how the man got to Japan if he didn’t fly. Maybe he did that Trans-continental Apparition thing Harry had done to get them to Diagon Alley.

“Well how else are we going to get to London,” Akito demanded, slightly put out. She crossed her arms over her chest and settled her face into a patient mask. Draco stared back at her for a long time, as if trying to decide if he should be insulted or not. Finally, he shrugged as if it didn’t matter if he was.

“We’ll have to Floo of course.”

There was a long beat of silence in which all of the Sohma’s stared at Draco with a quizzical expression. Not even Kisa knew what that was, although she did remember Harry saying something about that the day he took them to London.

“Malfoy,” Harry finally spoke up on a sigh. “They’re Muggle-born. I doubt they’d know what Flooing was.”

“Well, excuse me. I thought seeing as you were living with them you’d take care to inform them all about the world you strove so hard to save,” Draco spoke up superiorly.

A muscle jumped in Harry’s jaw but he made no ill move toward Draco. Instead, he turned to address the more level headed member of the pair.

“Did you guys Floo here,” he asked her. Luna nodded her head slowly. “Whose Floo did you use?”

“The Japanese Ministry’s of course. But I don’t supposed you’d want to walk into the Ministry now of all times,” she replied mildly. Kisa took the stony expression on Harry’s face to be a solid no. “Didn’t think so. I suppose we’ll have to use a Portkey.”

“I thought those were illegal,” Kureno cut in. Luna turned and fixed her prominent eyes on him. “That’s what Potter-san’s friend, Cho-san, said.”

“Cho Chang,” Draco reiterated. “What on Earth is _she_ doing here?”

“Portkeys are in fact legal,” Luna spoke over him, not allowing anyone to give him any kind of acknowledgement. “But that’s only if you report them to the Ministry, which we aren’t planning to do.” A sort of fearful expression crossed most of their faces. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry. Just about everyone creates an illegal Portkey every now and again.”

“It’s like how streaming songs off the internet is illegal but everyone does it,” Harry added to further appease them.

“And this Portkey thing can get us safely to London,” Rin asked, sounding skeptical. Kisa saw her throw a covert glance at Haru and could help but wonder about it. The look on Hiro’s face said there was something there.

“Yup, so if everyone’s ready we can get going,” Harry told them as he bent down and picked up a cushion off the couch. He tapped it with his wand and muttered, “ _Portus_.”

The pillow shook a bit and glowed a bright blue before becoming inanimate yet again.

“Wait, wait, we’re leaving right now, right now,” Kyo shouted in alarm, his eyes unnaturally wide. Draco shot him an annoyed look before he slipped out of the room to retrieve his children – Luna followed after him to help.

“Of course we’re leaving right now. It doesn’t take very long to cast a tracking spell and we aren’t exactly protected out here.”

“But you still haven’t explained anything!”

Harry rolled his eyes and glared at the teen.

“We can do that later, now stop arguing and grab onto a part of this,” he snapped and held out the pillow. Looking only slightly confused, Kisa stepped forward and touched her hand to the plush object. “You only need to have at least a finger on it.”

“And lets all try not to puke while we’re traveling,” Draco spoke up as he walked into the room. He had both twins resting peacefully in his arms but when he reached them he handed Luke over to Harry. Luna came up, holding tightly to Teddy, and place one finger on the pillow.

“Everyone touching a bit of it,” Harry asked, looking around until he got all nods. “Good.” He then placed the tip of his finger onto the pillow before muttering another, “ _Portus_.”

Kisa felt as if someone had gotten a hook and hooked it around her bellybutton before yanking her forward. She was then suspended in the air, spinning around and around, her finger glued to the pillow. Kyo was swearing loudly somewhere to her right and Yuki was yelling at him. Hiro had his eyes shut tightly and Akito looked to be praying. Ayame and Shigure were the only ones who appeared to be having the time of their lives.

Then Kisa was landing painfully on top of a bush. As far as she could see, Harry, Luna, Draco, and surprisingly Kyo, were the only ones who actually landed on their feet. Everyone else was spread out on the ground.

Kisa stood up slowly, her vision still spinning; she shook her head to clear it, and caught a glimpse of some grey building and maybe a house before her eyes landed on Harry.

He had Luke cradled against his chest with one hand – the sleeping boy’s head resting comfortably in the crook of his neck – and his other hand was placed on his hip. The baby, actually none of the kids, had awoken which Kisa found was slightly surprising. They must have been either completely knocked out or so used to that form of traveling that it no longer mattered to them.

Kisa then noticed that Harry was grinning brightly, his eyes glinting in humor.

“Alright guys,” he chirped brightly.

“Welcome to London!” 

* * *

 

Yuki felt distinctly out of sorts and he was a little bit miffed at Harry – really, he could have warned someone about that dizzying travel method. Also, he was irritated.

They could not possibly be in London.

London was not supposed to have some many trees or quaint little cottages. London was supposed to be filled with towering grey buildings and busy roads.

So where the hell were they?

“It’s just a little bit up ahead,” Harry called back to them from where he was walking at the front of the group.

Yuki was finding his cheerful disposition to be most irritating of all – although if he was this calm that probably meant Tohru wasn’t in any serious danger . . . right?

Yuki cast a look at Kyo, who was surprisingly walking at his side.

Their relationship now was rocky at best, but Yuki had a feeling that he had actually managed to knock some sense into the stubborn cat this time.

“Where exactly are we going,” Hiro demanded, jolting Yuki out of his wandering thoughts.

Yuki turned to look at the wizard but Harry didn’t even bother to acknowledge Hiro’s question . . . that is until it was repeated by his little girl – who had woken sometime during their walk.

“We’re going to see your Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron.”

“There is no way that they are related to the Weasels,” Draco immediately objected.

Harry gave a sort of tired sigh and said, “Yes, but Ron and Hermione _are_ my family.”

Draco opened his mouth, ready to argue, but Luna jabbed him hard in the ribs and shook her head – and so he fell back into a sulky silence.

The rest of the walk was spent mostly like that, everyone’s mind too occupied with other things to really focus on keeping up a conversation. Yuki took to watching Harry and wondering who he really was.

It was a long time before anything really changed. Lily – who had insisted on walking the whole way if everyone else was doing the same – let out a tiny whimper, wobbled a little then pressed herself up against Harry’s leg. Harry reached down a lifted her into his arms, but Yuki noticed that he also shuddered a little.

And when Yuki passed over the same place, he felt as if his whole body had been drenched in water. Yuki blinked and looked around discretely, but saw nothing out of the norm.

“Alright guys, we’re here,” Harry announced and Yuki looked forward to see a large cottage rise up out of the ground. Large bay windows, gleaming brown bricks, and whitewashed walls; it was a handsome monument to the drab London background.

Yuki saw a whole bunch of shadow people moving behind the shades of the windows, and muffled laughter rang out from the house.

“Um . . . what’s today’s date,” Harry asked suddenly nervous.

“Saturday, July 23rd,” Hatori answered automatically.

Harry swore softly under his breath and dropped Lily back to the ground as he approached the door.

“Alright, I’m gonna need all of you to take three large steps back from me,” he instructed them. Everyone looked at him in confusion but did as he told them when he made an impatient gesture.

Then he turned to the door, took a deep breath, and pushed the doorbell.

Time seemed to freeze and all the people gathered in the house grew silent. Someone asked a question and then there were the sound of footsteps, then locks clicking open, and then the door itself was opening.

Yuki got the image of a red-haired, freckled face man, before a loud feminine scream broke through the silence.

“ _HARRY_ ,” the voice cried and then someone threw themselves at Harry.

Harry stumbled back a step before he managed to right himself. And then there were more voices screaming out Harry’s name and a swarm of red-headed people flowed out of the house and surrounded him.

Yuki had to take a few more steps back to avoid them all.

“Blimey mate,” the man that had answered the door was saying as he patted Harry hard on the back. “Where the hell have you been hiding?”

Harry grinned sheepishly and allowed everyone to coddle him and bombard him with questions and accusations.

Draco then coughed and all attention turned to him.

There was several expression of shock on the red-haired peoples face as they took him in.

“I do believe we should all go inside. As you can see, this is not purely a social visit,” he drawled out and waved the hand that he wasn’t using to hold the sleeping Luke at the group gathered behind him.

“Yeah, that’s right. I’ve got a bit of a problem that I need your help with,” Harry added, and as he said this, the two closest to him – the red-haired man that had answered the door and a bushy-haired woman – shared a look.

“When don’t you have a bit of a problem,” someone in the red crowd asked with a snort.

Harry glared in their direction.

“Well, there’s no point in standing out here, come on in,” the bushy-haired girl said and ushered them all inside. 

* * *

 

If there was one thing Harry absolutely loved, it was Ron and Hermione’s home.

It had the feel of a professor’s office but it was still homey and warm, kind of like Gryffindor tower. And, as he was pushed with the Weasley family into the large living room, Harry couldn’t help but marvel at it all.

It had been a long time since he had last stepped foot into this home. He wondered if he still had his own room here.

“Alright, so what’s this all about,” Hermione demanded once everyone was seated on the many couches. She looked around at the odd bunch that Harry had brought with him, her face openly curious.

“And where have you been,” Molly demanded heatedly.

“Yeah,” George jumped in. “How could you be so heartless as to leave your loving fa —”

“George, this is hardly the time for your jokes,” Molly scolded him.

“Yes, but surely mother you feel the same way. Oh woe is me, how mine own brother —”

“You will cease with this foolishness at once,” Akito suddenly snapped out, and the room grew deathly silent as all eyes turned onto her.

Harry frowned.

“Akito, you can’t go around ordering people who —”

“I don’t want to hear it Harrison,” Akito cut across him. “I have put up with this silliness long enough. I demand that you tell me _right now_ what is going on so we can get Tohru back safely and then I want to go back to my estate to make sure nothing has fallen out without my presence there.”

“But —”

“No buts! I find this country tiring, this heat is making me ill, and all of you are getting on my nerves. So you will solve this problem now and I’ll be on my way.”

More silence followed after Akito’s words and now all the Weasleys were staring at her, completely perplexed.

Finally, Ron broke the silence.

“And I thought Malfoy was a git.”

Akito bristled at the comment but Hatori was quick to sooth her.

Harry sighed and dropped his head into his hands.

“Um . . . Harry, what exactly is going on,” Hermione questioned him timidly.

Harry sighed once more and looked up to see all eyes on him. He groaned a little before answering the question in a weary voice.

“Supposedly, Fenir Greyback has kidnapped the only living member of my family that I truly like in an effort to lure me to him. Or at least that’s Malfoy’s explanation.”

There were a collection of sighs, groans, and “Only you Harry” as all the Weasleys took on grim expression, except for Hermione. She was looking at Harry searchingly and Harry knew what she was thinking.

“Tohru’s a blood relative from my mother’s side. Supposedly my mum was adopted and happens to be half-Japanese.”

“Blimey,” Ron muttered, looking thoroughly shocked.

“Alright then, so who’s this lot, then,” Bill asked, waving a hand at the group sitting uncomfortably before them.

“They’re the Sohmas. They kind of took Tohru in like you guys did for me.”

“Oh, the poor dear’s an orphan, too,” Molly asked in a sympathetic voice.

“Must run in the family,” George muttered tactlessly when Harry nodded in the affirmative.

Molly shot him a disapproving look.

Harry chose to ignore the comment.

He went about the process of introducing the Weasleys to the Sohmas and vice versa, and then he sank down into the couch, pulling a drowsy Lily into his lap and allowing her to curl up against him.

“So what’s the plan,” Ron asked him in a sort of resigned tone.

“Nothing for any of you,” Harry responded immediately. “I’m gonna go out there and track Greyback and anyone he’s working with down. Then I’m going to hand him over to the Ministry; that is if he doesn’t force me to kill him. All I really want you guys to do is look after them for me.”

“Harry, you can’t honestly expect any of us to approve of this plan,” Hermione immediately objected when he was done talking. Her face was creased in a familiar expression Harry knew to be stubbornness.

“No, but I hope you would.”

“You’ve obviously gone round the bend if you think that,” Ron interjected.

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes from behind his glasses.

“Guys, please don’t do this now,” he begged of them. “You’ve already done your share in all of this —”

“And so have you,” Hermione pointed out shrilly.

“— and I don’t want to lose anymore of you,” Harry continued as if Hermione had not said anything.

He looked around at them beseechingly, his face contorted into a mask of pain that made them wince looking at it.

“Please, just stay out of this one. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if something happened to any of you.” He looked around the room slowly as he said this, saving Malfoy for last.

“Harry, you know none of that was your fault. What happened to Fr— what happened was not your fault,” Hermione tried to tell him, but he didn’t believe her. After a long moment she gave in.

“Fine, just . . . just don’t do anything stupid or reckless.”

Harry shot her a cheeky grin, although his eyes still looked haunted.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

* * *

 

Draco stood in the doorway of Harry’s room, watching as the man who mothered his children tucked them into bed.

He would be the first to admit that if anyone had told him four years ago that he would one day have two beautiful children and be in love with the one and only Boy-Who-Lived, he would have cursed them and laughed in their face.

As it was, here he was, standing in the house of his enemy, staring at a man who had managed to capture his heart.

“I supposed we should have that long overdue talk now, huh?”

Harry’s low tenor washed over him and surprised Draco a little.

Harry had not once turned to look toward the door, and so Draco had assumed he had not known he was there.

“Yes, I suppose we should,” Draco responded after a moment.

He pushed himself off of the door frame and entered the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Harry heaved a sigh and turned around to face Draco, his green eyes were wary.

“Well,” he demanded silently when an awkward silence had swept over them.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” Draco asked and despite his best wished he knew the hurt he was feeling had appeared on his face because Harry’s own eyes reflected that hurt. After a moment of staring, Harry looked away – adverted his eyes to his feet.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the twins,” Draco asked again.

Harry moved his hands and began to play with them as if wishing for a distraction. After a short moment he sighed.

“Because . . . because I felt like you didn’t want me,” he finally replied in a heavy voice. “I . . . I didn’t want to push them on you. I didn’t want you to feel responsible or like you  _had_ to be with them . . . with me.”

Draco was startled by the confession and the stark feeling in Harry voice. It made him feel guilty,  _very_  guilty. Harry looked up suddenly, his eyes blazing with so many emotions that Draco actually stepped back.

“You have to understand,” Harry told the blonde, his voice pleading. “I . . . I woke up the next morning and I was so scared and confused. I _never_ planned for _that_ to happen and . . . and I was afraid of how you’d react to me once you woke up. I . . . I . . . I was so scared that I just bolted. I didn’t even know at first, couldn’t have imagined. . . . When I found out,” – Harry shook his head ruefully, his eyes slightly distant as if he were living that day again – “well, can you imagine my reaction?”

“You,” Draco started to say but his throat had closed up and nothing came out. His heart was clenched painfully as if punishing him for upsetting the man he loved. Swallowing thickly, Draco tried again, in a softer voice so that he may spare Harry’s feelings.

“You could have still given them to me . . . when you left.”

Harry gave him a look full of sarcastic skepticism.

“I would have understood. Yes, I would have been shocked, and I probably wouldn’t have let you leave at all, but you could have at least tried.”

Harry shook his head softly and there were tears glistening in his eyes.

“I . . . I didn’t think about that. I just acted.”

Unnecessary rage washed over Draco, mingling with his hurt.

 _Of course_  Harry hadn’t thought about it.

He never thought things through; he just rushed into everything headfirst.

“Were you ever going to tell me,” Draco question but it came out like an angry demand.

Harry flinched back and bit down on his bottom like in a show of nervousness that Draco had never knew he had.

“I was,” he finally admitted, his voice even softer than before.

“I sense a ‘but’ here,” Draco stated rather coolly, and his traitorous heart beat painfully in his chest as if berating him. Draco ignored it, he actually had a reason for being mad at Harry and he would not allow his own heart to punish him for showing it.

“But . . . I was going to wait for a while.”

“‘Wait for a while,’” Draco repeated in a scathing voice. “And how long would _that_ have been? When they were seven and had no idea I existed? When they were eleven and started Hogwarts? When they were seventeen and wanted to know why the hell their own father wasn’t around for them? When Potter,  _when?_ ”

Harry flinched back and dropped his head.

His shoulders were shaking and Draco could hear a very quiet sniff, sniff.

Draco deflated immediately and his face crumpled into one of contempt, which was aimed inwardly. He felt appalled at himself for making Harry cry. How could he been so insensitive. Of course Harry would be the one most hurt by all of this, he was the mother in the relationship. He had had to carry the twins for who knew how long – all by himself, left alone with his insecurities.

“Harry,” Draco whispered, moving closer toward the younger man.

His name on the blonde’s lips seemed to make the Savior aware of the situation and he began wiping furiously at his eyes, muttering, “Sorry,” over and over again.

“Sh, listen, Harry, its okay— no stop!” Draco had grabbed at Harry’s arms to pull him close, but Harry pulled back, still not looking at him.

“Come now, look at me.”

Draco let go of one of Harry’s hands and grabbed at his chin, turning his face forcefully so that he had to look Draco in the eyes.

“Harry’s its okay, I don’t blame you— no _listen_! I don’t blame you for reacting the way you did. I’m sorry I got mad at you.”

“You  _should_  be mad at me,” Harry mumbled, but he was no longer trying to pull away from Draco. “You should be. I had no right to keep them away from you.”

Draco sighed in exasperation and gave up.

There was no use reasoning with Harry over something like this.

“Okay, fine, I  _am_  mad at you,” he spoke quietly, dropping his head to lean it against Harry’s. “But I still don’t blame you.”

Harry gave him a sort of crocked smile.

“You can’t have it both ways.”

“I’m a Malfoy, I can have whatever I want,” Draco scoffed and he received a laugh for his effort – it was a deep husky sound that sent warmth through Draco’s body.

Harry closed his eyes and hummed and Draco was content to stay just like that for a long time. _This_ was what he had missed sorely ever since he had woken up that faithful morning to find Harry gone –  _this_  closeness and Harry here in his arms.

He smelled like chocolate, Draco realized after a moment – chocolate and mint and electricity. It was an interesting mix. Draco shifted slightly, curling one arm around Harry’s waist to pull his body flush against his. Harry didn’t protest, although he did let out a small squeak of surprise at the sudden movement. Draco smirked and cupped his other hand behind Harry’s neck.

“Harry,” he called out to him.

“Hum,” Harry hummed, not opening his eyes.

“Look at me.”

Surprisingly, Harry followed the command, his dark lashes fluttering as his eyes slowly opened. Those luminous emerald orbs were darker than normal and Harry’s breath picked up speed – coming out in small puffs. Draco grinned slowly and Harry’s eyes widened ever so slightly . . . and then Draco dipped his head and kissed Harry full on the mouth.

Harry started in shock and his mouth dropped open in surprise, and Draco took advantage of the moment. He plunged his tongue in and started mapping out the hot canvas of Harry’s mouth.

It was like bliss.

Draco was pretty sure that if he could spend all of his time just kissing Harry, he would. If they made a candy that was Harry-flavored, he would buy thousands of it, eat them all, and then get thousands more – yet it would never compare to the real thing.

“Dr — Malfoy,” Harry gasped when they had to break apart of air. “Wa-wait . . . we . . . we can’t . . . stop . . .  _Malfoy_!”

Harry tried to squirm out of Draco’s grip while the blonde placed hot openmouthed kisses down his neck.

Harry had just been about to give in, when a knock sounded on the door.

Draco growled lowly and reluctantly pulled away from Harry, watching smugly as the younger man swayed on the spot.

“Harry?”

Granger’s voice drifted in through the door.

“Harry, can we talk?”

Draco rolled his eyes and went to open the door, seeing as Harry was still trying to get his senses back.

“Oh, Ha— Malfoy,” Granger’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and her lips pursed together. “What were you —?”

“You can go on in,” Draco cut across her and then slipped to the side and walked toward the room he had been given without a backwards glance. 

* * *

 

Harry walked into the kitchen the next morning in a hazy daze.

He was tired, half-asleep, and had been up half the night thinking about Draco Malfoy. The stupid blonde had once again managed to worm his way into Harry’s mind and disrupt everything. Harry though he had had everything figured out when it came to Draco, and yet the aristocrat had managed to throw all of that out the window within a few minutes.

Harry groaned and shook his head, ambling toward the cupboards in search of some tea, or maybe something stronger – like coffee. He found the coffee in the cabinet above the sink and set about making it. Then he settled down in the breakfast nook and sipped languishly at the drink. He allowed his mind to wander in the quiet of the kitchen but before long he was tenser than when he had come down.

“Good morning!”

Luna spun into the kitchen in a brilliant blur of bright yellows and loud purples. She grinned winningly at Harry before seating herself in his lap and stealing his coffee.

“Hey,” Harry cried in outrage. “I was siphoning my tension off on that.”

“You might want to try something else, Harrison,” Luna told him in a singsong. “I don’t think this was working too much for you. You still look tenser than a Humbledraft.”

Harry blinked, wondering vaguely what a Humbledraft was before deciding that he did not want to know. With a sigh he closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the window behind him and listened to Luna hum softly.

“What’s wrong,” Luna finally asked after a long stretch of silence.

“Malfoy,” Harry intoned and Luna hummed in understanding. “I just don’t know what to do anymore, Lu. Everything’s all . . . confusing and . . . and . . .”

Harry sighed and shook his head. “I’m a fool.”

“Yes, you are,” Luna agreed in her oh-so-blunt manner. “You’re a right fool.”

“Thanks Luna,” Harry thanked dryly.

“You’re welcome. But I wasn’t finished.”

Harry cracked open one eye to look at Luna, but all he could really see was the back of her curly blonde hair.

“You may be a fool, but you’re a fool with good intentions. What you did was the most idiotic thing anyone could ever do,” – Harry winced at Luna’s brute honestly but said nothing – “but you did it believing you had everyone’s best intentions at heart.”

“So . . . I’m a considerate fool,” Harry recapitulated, his lip twitching into a smile when Luna nodded. “Luna, have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Luna turned around in his lap at that, and her smile was more blinding that Harry had ever seen it. She leaned into him and rested her forehead against him.

“No, you haven’t,” she told him, and her breath smelled like the coffee she had nicked from him.

A smile finally made its way onto Harry’s lips and he said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Luna said back.

Harry opened his mouth to say more – something along the lines of how he wished Luna had been born his biological sister – but he never got the chance. There was a small interrupting cough and the two turned to find the source.

Ginny Weasley stood in the archway that lead to the kitchen, her hands on her hips and her brown eyes narrowed.

“Good morning,” she said in an overly polite tone.

Harry sighed and Luna moved to get out of his lap.

“Good morning, Ginny,” the blonde greeted her back just as politely. Luna then sat Harry cup back down – although it was halfway drained now – before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Harry’s forehead.

“You know what you have to do,” she told him before floating out of the room.

Harry watched her go with an amused expression then turned around to see Ginny sitting across from him.

“So . . . You and Luna seem very . . . close . . .” Ginny commented as nonchalantly as possible. Harry turned away from her probing gaze and smiled fondly back at the arch where Luna had just disappeared.

“Yeah . . . I guess you could say that. . . . I don’t know what I would have done without her.”

Harry heard Ginny snort and turned to look inquiringly at her.

“Sorry,” she apologized but Harry could tell she didn’t really mean it. “I just never knew you to go after the weird ones,” she then explained.

Realization flashed across Harry’s face, but it was lined with irritation.

“Look, Ginny, I really don’t think any of this is your business but Luna and I aren’t together.”

A sort of satisfied look crossed Ginny’s face now. She smoothly stood up and came around the breakfast bar so that she could stand behind Harry.

“I didn’t say that to irritate you,” she commented smoothly and she slid her hands over Harry’s shoulders and down his chest. “I was just jealous is all. But I guess it wasn’t necessary.”

Harry pulled away from Ginny’s touch and stood up also to put some distance between them.

“Ginny . . . what exactly are you—”

“It’s okay Harry. I get what you’re trying to do.”

She advanced on him slowly, like a cat stalking a mouse, and Harry back up until she had him trapped against the wall.

“And what exactly am I trying to do?”

Ginny smiled coyly at his question and lifted her hand to play with the collar of Harry’s shirt.

“That thing with Luna just now . . . you were trying to  _make_  me jealous – weren’t you?”

A throaty cough interrupted Harry’s reply once again and he looked over at the arch to see Draco standing there, cradling a sleepy Lily to his chest and leading an equally drowsy Teddy and Luke. Harry used the distraction to inch around Ginny and he approached the group.

“Mornin’ Daddy,” Teddy murmured rubbing sleepily at his eyes.

Harry grinned down at the boy, reaching to ruffle his hair and then swing him up into his arms. Teddy giggled madly and grin splitting his face.

“How are my angels doing this morning?”

Teddy giggled again and Luke simply blinked – and Lily blushed and buried her face into Draco’s chest.

“Hungry, that’s how they are,” Draco spoke in that smooth tone. “They’ve been asking for you, but if you’re busy . . .” He trailed off, sliding his steel-colored eyes from Harry to Ginny and looking innocently curious.

“That’s alright,” Harry told him, trying to sound extremely nonchalant and not at all like the guilty cheat he felt like.

Turning away from the blonde, Harry went about fixing some food for his kids. 

* * *

 

Ginny walked into living room and zeroed in on the two twins sitting in front of the couch, playing around with Ron’s Muggle chess set.

Every since she had read about Harry in the Prophet, she had been annoyingly curious about the two, and when he saw Harry and Luna in the kitchen . . .

Ginny moved further into the room and two pair of green eyes turned to look at her simultaneously. Ginny’s step faltered at the sight of those eyes – Harry’s eyes – before she plastered a sweet smile on her face and approached the twins.

“Hi, I’m your dad’s friend, Ginny,” she told the two three-year-olds. “You can call me Aunty Ginny if you want.”

The girl – Lily probably, it seemed like Harry to give his first daughter his mother’s name – turned to look at her brother and he tilted his head a little and she returned with a grin. Ginny was amazed, she hadn’t seem a pair of twins interact since Fred died, she had forgotten what it looked like.

“I’m Lily and he’s Luke,” Lily told her in a sweet voice. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She looked up at Ginny from under her blonde fringes.

Ginny brought that sweet smile back.

“So, what are you two doing?”

“We’re playing chess,” Luke spoke in a soft monotone. His face was equally as blank, which Ginny found odd for a toddler.

“Oh,” Ginny replied rather awkwardly. She searched around for another subject to bring up before deciding that she really didn’t need to use subtlety with two kids. “So, where did you dad meet your mother?”

“He didn’t,” Luke commented, not looking up from the game he had resumed with his sister. He moved a knight forward and took one of her pawns as Ginny mauled over his answer.

“Oh . . . um, who is she?”

“There is no she,” Lily told her this time, also not looking up. She moved her bishop and captured the same knight that had taken her pawn.

Luke frowned and studied the board more carefully.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Ginny admitted. Luke let out a huff of breath and turned to look at Ginny with annoyed eyes. Ginny winced, remembering the last time eyes that annoyed had landed on her.

 _That_  had not been pretty.

“Look, daddy didn’t  _meet_  any lady and there is no mother for us. If you want to be technical, than daddy  _is_  our mother. He’s the one that brought us into the world.”

“I don’t understand,” Ginny whispered, mortification sinking in.

She was so stunned she didn’t even take in the fact that this child was speaking to her as if she were some incompetent bimbo.

“Daddy gave birth to us, it doesn’t get any simpler than that,” Lily told her smartly and then smiled smugly when she moved her castle forward and caught Luke’s king. “Checkmate.”

Luke glared at the board and then at Ginny.

“You made me loose,” he accused her.

Ginny blinked down at him.

“Huh?”

Luke snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, pouting cutely.

Lily rolled her eyes before turning to Ginny with a sympathetic expression on her round face.

“I bet you thought Aunty Luna was our mum, what with the blonde hair and all,” she said in a soft voice – like one someone would use when offering condolences. “But she’s not. Daddy’s the mother in the relationship and Draco Malfoy is our father. That’s why he’s here.”

And just like that Ginny felt as if she had been hit with a stunner.

It took several minutes for the information to sink in, and when it did, she exploded. 

* * *

 

Hermione was the first one to reach the living room after she had heard Ginny scream. Her wand was raised and she scanned the scene quickly. A moment later, she lowered it in confusion and then everyone else was there, looking around in alarm.

“What’s going on? What happened,” Harry demanded, pushing to the front of the group and trying to separate himself from Teddy, in case there was any danger. When he saw that only Ginny and the twins were in the room he calmed down slightly.

Ginny had jumped up when everyone had come running into the room and now she was pointing a finger at Harry, her other hand covering her mouth and her eyes wide with shock.

“Ginny, what’s wrong dear,” Molly questioned, making her way over to her daughter.

“He . . . he . . . they said . . . and I thought . . .” she whispered, not making any sense.

Hermione shared a worried look with Harry and Ron, both of who shrugged.

Finally Ginny seemed to compose herself.

“He’s the mother.”

There was a long beat of silence in which everyone stared at Ginny in confusion, except for Draco, Harry, the twins, and Teddy.

“I’m sorry, what,” George blurted out, breaking the tense silence.

Ginny straightened up and took a deep breath before speaking.

“They,” she said, waving her hand at the twins, “told me that Harry’s is their ‘mother’,” she said, using air quotes around the word ‘mother’. “And Malfoy is their father. But that can’t be true, right Harry?”

Ginny looked beseechingly at Harry, looking like she wanted him to claim that this was all some horrible mistake and the twins had simply been joking with her.

However, when he didn’t say anything for a long time everyone turned to look at him in shock.

“Um . . .”

“I’m sorry Daddy,” Luke spoke, looking down at his feet. “But she made me loose in chess and she was getting on my nerves and she kept asking questions and—”

Harry sighed when Luke broke off and looked up at him with watery eyes.

“No, no, it’s quite alright Luke,” Harry told him, shifting under everyone’s gaze.

A red blush had spread across Ginny’s face at Luke’s words and she glared down at the little boy, but he seemed not to notice.

“I really don’t see what the big deal is,” little Teddy suddenly spoke up. “So what if Daddy had kids with Uncle Draco. It’s his life.”

Harry beamed down at his godson, who grinned back.

“I quite agree,” Draco added in a drawl. “Potter’s allowed to frolic around with whomever he pleases.” Harry glared at the blonde at that while George snorted. “Anyways, it’s really no business of yours Weasley.”

Ginny flushed an even darker red at that.

“Two points Malfoy, zip Ginny,” someone murmured from behind Hermione, probably George.

“There’s no need to take hits at Aunty Ginny,” Lily suddenly jumped in, a sparkling glint in her eyes. “She’s just fishing around because she’s obsessed with Daddy.”

Hermione was pretty sure Ginny’s head would burst into flames with how she was blushing.

Hermione couldn’t blame her.

That was basically a triple hit against her from Malfoy and his two kids. Slytherin cunning obviously was inherited if these two were any show of it.

And to think they were only three.

“Alright, that’s quite enough out of the three of you,” Harry took over looking sternly at the three, but Hermione could tell that he was trying to keep from laughing.

Draco smirked and the twins copied him but adopted abashed expressions when Harry turned to look at them. Hermione though it was very humorous but kept from laughing to spare Ginny her feelings.

“Now, Ginny, I thought I had made myself clear about how I feel about you when we split up all those years ago,” Harry said, spinning on Ginny, who looked completely mortified that this was happening to her in front of a crowd of friends, family, and strangers. “And if you really wanted to know something about me, I suggest you ask me instead of irritating my children. As you can see, they can be quite callous when irritated.”

Someone snorted in the crowd, and someone else said something like “She won’t be doing  _that_  again.”

“Come along Lily, Luke,” Harry then said and turned to leave, Lily, Luke, and Teddy trailing after him like little ducklings.

Draco only stayed to give Ginny his most superior smirk and then turned to follow them.

An unnerving silence followed after their departure, broken only when one of the Sohmas spoke.

“Wizards can have kids,” Hiro questioned, looking very much pale.

“With a potion mostly,” Hermione told him, but she could see from the look in his eyes that he was quite scarred by this bit of news.

“Calm down, it’s not like it happens to any old bloke. You’d have to be very powerful and the potion is bloody complicated. Not to mention that fact that you’d have to be a complete tosser to actually go through with it,” George told him, with a wide grin on his face.

Hiro didn’t look the least bit reassured.

Hermione sighed and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Here, I’ll explain it all to you and anybody else who wants to know.”

With that said she exited the room with all of the Sohma’s following her like lost lambs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone else get like the perfect picture of Hiro's face when he found out about male pregnancy? I just couldn't stop laughing! The poor boy.


	8. Acts of Denial and Conversations over Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flash Warning: This chapter may contain sexual content not intended for children under the thirteen. You have been warned!

Harry jerked awake with a gasp, panting harshly and covered in cold sweat, his most recent dream still hovering tantalizingly around the edges of his mind. A flash of hot air and a feel of lingering touches had him groaning seconds later, and he pulled his knees up to his chest so that he could rest his head against them with his hands in his hair.

_Malfoy_ , Harry thought and his mouth twitched with the bitter amusement of the situation he suddenly found himself in. Here he was, after spending the whole day in the blonde’s company, and yet he was now dreaming about the aristocrat. It seemed liked Harry’s own mind was trying to drive him insane – taunting him with erotic pictures of Malfoy that would leave him highly aroused and wanting.

Was there no longer any semblance of peace in his life, he found himself wondering and then he cursed the creature blood that he knew ran through his veins.

His hands dropped out of his hair and his head fell back against the wooden headboard of his four-poster bed.

Harry let out a sigh and closed his eyes wearily, hoping to shake off the lasting effects of his all-too-vivid dream.

He could still feel those ghosting fingers running over his body and see those lust-filled eyes gazing at him.

Harry groaned again, his eyes snapping open as he felt his arousal grow. He shifted uncomfortably, his face pinched together. He then cast his mind around for some thought or image that would help to get rid of his painful erection because he would not –  _could not_  resort to adolescent means. That was beyond embarrassing and would be like giving in – into what, he really didn’t know. And he definitely didn’t want to do  _that_  while his kids were in the same room, sleeping or not.

_Snape in a Speedo, Snape in a Speedo_ , Harry thought seriously – and desperately – and then let out a sigh of relief when his erection disappeared without a trace. Snape was probably rolling around in his grave and cursing Harry to the deepest pit in hell right now for using his image to help the Boy-Who-Lived get rid of an erection for his godson, but Harry didn’t really care, as long as it got rid of the problem.

Harry found himself relaxing against the headboard and his eyes dropped with drowsiness; but after a few minute of remaining like this, the Savior realized that sleep was once more lost to him. Knowing he would not be able to fall back asleep without some kind of incentive, Harry got reluctantly out of bed, a cup of tea on his mind.

The floor was cold under his feet, serving to wake him up further, but Harry moved on.

As he passed where his kids were sleeping on his way to the door, he found himself stopping so that he could simply watch them.

Lily and Lucian were curled up on either side of Teddy; both were clinging to one of his arms. Even in sleep the twins clung to Teddy like was a shared toy. Harry often found himself marveling over how the twins seemed to look up to the child-metamorphagus, almost like he really was their older brother.

With a fond smile on his lips and a shake of his head, Harry crept silently past them and out of the room. He made sure to close the door behind him before he moved down the hall.

The house was mostly silent, save for the odd creaks and groans here and there and the loud ticking of the many clocks Hermione had taken to installing. One of them proclaimed the time to be 2:11 when Harry passed by it.

_Three hours before Molly wakes,_  Harry thought as he walked past several sleeping portraits of past Weasleys that lined the hall,  _and another two before Hermione._

Harry’s lips twitched into a smile at the thought of one of his best friend. Even though they had long since graduated from Hogwarts some six years ago, Hermione still persisted to wake up at seven in the morning. Harry honestly couldn’t understand how Ron stood it.

Hell, he had trouble getting up in the mornings and he actually  _was_  going to school.

Harry chuckled and shook his head once more, not even noticing the door to the right of him creaking open. So lost in his thought he was that he  _definitely_  didn’t notice the arms until they had reached out and grabbed hold of him, pulling him into the dark room.

The door shut rather ominously behind him.

Harry immediately began to struggle, twisting and turning and swatting at the hands, but they were locked firmly around his waist like steel bands.

“W-what are you doing,” Harry demanded furiously at the stranger, only remembering to whisper at the last minute. The hands were roaming now, down his sides and across his chest, trying to find some way under his shirt.

A low chuckled drifted into Harry’s ear.

“I do believe we were interrupted last time,” Malfoy whispered sensually, his warm breath tickling Harry’s ear. His voice was low and smooth like velvet and it had Harry freezing in startled shock – it was just his luck that the object of his unrest had literally caught him out wander in the early morning.

Malfoy’s arms settled more firmly around Harry’s waist, drawing him flush against a well-toned body. Malfoy’s hands finally seemed to make their way under Harry’s shirt and the Savior was startled out of his shock when he felt those cold fingers against his flushed chest.

“W-wait,” Harry gasped, trying to twist away from Draco’s hands. “Wait, w-we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not, hmm? The secret’s out; we no longer have anything to hide. And no one will be shocked to see us together.”

Harry’s eyes fluttered and he let out a breathy sigh as Draco ran that sinful tongue over the shell of his ear.

The Savior was finding it hard to concentrate.

Draco was clouding his mind with those hands that moved across his chest – tweaking his nipples – and that warm mouth that was pressing fluttered kisses to a spot beneath Harry’s ear that had him mewling in delight.

“Mmm . . . I can’t . . . I can’t be doing this right now,” Harry said on another breathy sight. It was a weak protest – a very weak one at that – and Draco knew it because even as Harry said the words his body was relaxing into the embrace.

“So you say,” Draco murmured in a smug voice as he ran his lips down Harry’s smooth neck. An electric shiver sprinted up Harry’s spine and he titled his head to the side to give the blonde better access to his neck. “And yet here you still are.”

_It should be a crime for someone to sound so seductive_. Harry thought, finally giving in and twisting around so that he was facing the taller man.

The room was cloaked in darkness so that Harry could only make put Draco’s silver eyes – turned smoky with lust.

Harry was struck for a moment at the fact that his dream seemed to have simply come to life – but the thought was quickly chased from his mind when Draco pulled him into a searing kiss.

Harry twisted his head to the side so that his glasses didn’t press painfully into his face – and so that he could get a better feel of the blonde’s lips on his. Tongues battled furiously in a dance that made Harry’s knees weak and his mind blank. He didn’t even notice that Draco was pushing him backward until the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed.

Harry fell backward with a startled “Oomph,” and blinked owlishly up at the man standing over him.

His heart flipped nervously in his chest – beating wildly like a hummingbird’s wings – seeing Draco looming over him like that, in all his aristocratic glory. It was both so excitingly thrilling and painfully frightening that Harry found himself trying to scramble away before he could even consciously register the thought.

Draco wouldn’t allow him to, however – which was to be expected.

He pushed Harry back once more and climbed on top of the man, straddling his waist and pinning his arms above his head. Harry swallowed thickly and tried to squirm from out under the Malfoy. The Savior could all too easily feel the other man’s arousal pressing into his thigh, and he could fell his own erection twitching to life.

“I really shouldn’t be doing this,” Harry tried to protest again, but all that managed to leave his mouth was some garbled nonsense.

“Shh, relax Harry,” Draco purred as he placed kisses along Harry’s jaw. “I won’t hurt you.”

_That’s what scares me_ , Harry thought with a start. Tears prickled in his eyes at the sudden realization and he tried desperately to fight off the emotion slowly creeping up on him.

He could _not_ do this right now of all times.

“ _Harry_ ,” Draco murmured almost lovingly, commanding Harry’s attention again.

He let Harry’s hands go and moved his own hands to cup Harry’s face, gazing down into his eyes deeply. Something foreign gleamed in those silver orbs, something Harry was very much reluctant to acknowledge. Draco’s fingers moved, lifting Harry’s glasses away from his face so that his vision turned blurry, but Harry could still feel his intense gaze.

And then Draco leaned in and kissed Harry sweetly, his lips lingering rather lazily against the Savior’s.

Harry’s resolved crumbled away right then and there and he almost cried at the thought of it.

Draco was still murmuring his name as he placed fluttering kisses around Harry’s face before settling against the Savior’s lips once more.

Harry sighed, lifted his arms, and warped them around the blonde’s neck – bringing them closer together – and his hands went into Draco’s soft hair. A few tears slipped unchecked down Harry’s cheek as he rode that luxurious wave of sweet passion with the ex-Slytherin.

Draco’s hands moved away from Harry’s face, over his chest, down his sides, and then up under Harry’s shirt. Harry shivered in delicious delight, arching up into the touch.

Draco smirked into the kiss and moved to remove Harry’s shirt, making sure to drag his knuckles over the tanned skin as he did so. For a moment he simply gazed down at Harry, his fingers ghosting over the snake twisting on the Savior’s forearm, and then ran his fingers over Harry’s nipples and the dark-haired man had to bit his lip to keep the moan from escaping.

“It’s okay to let it go, Harry,” Draco whispered as he licked a path after his wandering fingers. Harry had never thought his own name could sound so sexual, then again just about everything that left Draco’s mouth sounded sexual. “Come on love, I want to hear that beautiful voice of yours.”

Harry groaned and arched upward but Draco pulled back teasingly – making sure to keep his ministrations light.

“S-someone . . .  _nh_  . . . might hear,” Harry panted in response to Draco. He moved rather restlessly against the man, wanting – no  _needing_  the blonde to apply more pressure to his touches. His whole body felt aflame.

“. . . I don’t . . . I don’t want—  _ah,_ ” Harry cried out in obvious pleasure as Draco reached down and squeezed him – hard. Harry’s entire body arched up into the touch and the blonde licked his lips wantonly.

“I put up a silencing charm,” the aristocrat told Harry with a wicked grin as he squeezed Harry again. “No one will hear, and if they do – oh well.”

Harry groaned, not even paying the blonde’s words much attention. He ran his hand down Draco’s back and gripped his hips, trying to press their erections together to get more of that delicious feeling – but Malfoy kept pulling back, teasing Harry.

“Bloody tease,” Harry growled.

“That’s the point.”

Harry moaned and moved his arms back to grab at Draco’s shoulders. The slightly older man hadn’t been wearing a shirt and Harry could feel all of that smooth skin wrapped tightly over taunt muscles. It was absolutely flawless, except for the few scars that Harry guessed might have come from the one day in the bathroom in sixth year. The thin little scars didn’t mare the beauty that was Draco Malfoy, though.

Harry was so lost in the marveling over how perfect Draco was that he didn’t notice the Malfoy pulling off his boxers until the blonde had wrapped his fingers firmly around Harry’s hard-on.

Harry gasped as a jolt went through his system and he arched up into the other man’s hand reflectively.

Draco leaned in once more to capture Harry’s next lusty moan, his tongue running over Harry’s slightly swollen lower lip.

“Hmm,” Harry hummed, moving his hands to Draco’s cheeks. He panted heavily against Draco’s lips when he felt a penetrating finger enter him.

Draco kissed him again, plunging his tongue into Harry’s mouth, running it over his teeth, the roof of his mouth, and dancing with the other’s tongue in heated passion. Harry moved his hand from Draco’s face, running them over Draco’s broad shoulders and then around his neck.

Another finger penetrated him, moving in and out.

Liquid heat pooled down into Harry’s stomach, increasing ever so steadily with ever stroke of his erection.

Harry’s vision was hazy, but his eyes weren’t exactly open so it didn’t really matter.

And then Malfoy was pulling away and Harry whimpered at the loss of contact.

His eyes fluttered open and he watched as Draco scooted in between his legs and pressed his erection to Harry’s entrance.

“You ready,” Draco asked him in a husky voice, panting just slightly. “I won’t do it unless you want to.”

Harry was immediately struck with a memory from four years ago and Draco saying the exact same thing.

“I’m always ready,” Harry whispered as he had then. Recognization flashed in Draco’s eyes before he smirked and then pushed in slowly.

“Oh,” Harry breathed out on a huge gush of air.

The pain was just as he remembered – sharp and pointed – and it had his eyes prickling, but in the next moment Draco was all the way in and the pain was gone.

Draco drew in a sharp breath and closed his eyes in rapture.

“Dear Merlin, you’re tight,” the blonde groaned as he pulled out slowly. Harry tried to chuckle but it came out more like a choked sob. He reached out blindingly for the blonde, needing some sort of leverage as he felt himself speeding toward the end.

He was riding a rollercoaster with sharp turns and dizzying spins. Colors blurred behind his closed eyelids as he rode wave after wave.

Then Draco slammed home, pounding into Harry’s prostate with vigor.

Harry came violently, screaming Draco’s name as his vision went completely white and the rollercoaster took a vicious dive.

Draco came only a few seconds after him, filling him with hot liquid that made his toes curl.

They rode the wave down from their orgasm together before Draco pulled out and collapsed bonelessly beside Harry on the bed. Harry smiled drowsily and curled himself into the blonde’s side. Draco allowed him to – after muttering a wandless cleaning spell – and wrapped his arm around the Savior.

Then he leaned down and dropped a kiss on Harry’s forehead, right on top of his scar.

“Oh, how I love you, Harry James Potter,” the blonde said on a sigh.

Harry was floored and he felt that unwanted emotion from before swept over him and clogged his throat. Tears prickled in his eyes and warmth spread through his body.

Draco noticed and wiped away a few of the tears that had escaped with his thumb, a soft, barely-there, smile on his face.

“I love you too,” Harry whispered back before burying his face into Draco’s chest out of embarrassment of the words he just said.

He completely missed the blinding smile that lit up Draco’s face, though. 

* * *

 

Draco was smiling slightly when he walked into the kitchen that morning and it did not affect his mood any when he found it packed with Weasleys – and the Lovegood oddity.

A slight smile was about as close to a grin as the Malfoy would give being in present company, and he had a lot to grin about this morning – giving what he had woken up to.

A peacefully sleeping Harry, hair still tousled from the shag he had just that morning, and looking sinfully innocent. Draco had to escape quickly or he’d wake Harry so that they could go another round.

Draco mentally shook his head and took to ignoring the Weasel and Weaseltte’s glare that followed him around the room as he went about gathering breakfast from the wide spread put out over every single counter space. Mrs. Weasley, the older that is, had obviously gone overboard that morning – or maybe she cooked like this every day given the amount of people she was used to housing.

Draco was just thinking about going back to his room with his breakfast and watching Harry sleep some more –  _that_ certainly sounded like a wonderful way to start the day – when someone called out to him.

“Malfoy?”

Draco had to hold his tongue to keep the groan he wanted to release from escaping – Malfoys  _didn’t_  groan.

“Yes, Gran—Hermione,” Draco asked in his most polite tone, realizing only at the last moment that she was no longer a Granger and he couldn’t exactly address her by Weasley seeing as just about everyone in the room was one.

Hermione blinked, taken aback for a moment before she composed herself.

“I was just wondering if you’d happen to know where Harry is. He wasn’t in his room when I went to check this morning and I have some things I want to run by him.”

“As a matter of fact, I  _do_  happen to know where Potter is,” Draco drawled, a smirk stretching his lips and giving him his famed cocky expression. His eyes flickered over to the Weaseltte’s as he said, “He’s currently in my room . . .  _sleeping_.”

The Weaseltte’s mouth dropped open in shock and beside her, Weasel coughed, choking on his pumpkin juice. Both of their faces had turned as red as their hair – just as Draco expected it to be. Someone from behind him snicker – that twin Weasley most probably.

“Oh,” Hermione said in a bemused tone and her face only turned slightly pink. “Well, in that case I guess I can let him sleep in for a bit more.”

Draco shrugged not really caring about what she did or didn’t do – he’d already had his morning fun – and turned to leave again.

“Wait a moment Fer—Malfoy,” Weasel suddenly called to him.

Draco turned and watched in a bored manner as Weasel got up from his seat so that he could approach him. The pureblooded blonde sighed and gathered all of his patience in preparation for whatever the weasel had to say.

“Look, I don’t like you,” the weasel started, a scowl fixed on his freckled face. “You’re a right git and a prat at that. And I know you don’t exactly like me much either. But none of that really matters much because Harry  _does_  like you, Merlin knows why —”

“Well they do say there’s a fine line between love and hate,” Draco threw in helpfully, if only to get the red-head to stop babbling.

Weasel blinked, obviously having not expected Draco to add anything. He shot Hermione a look, a weird sort of expression flashing across his face for a quick moment before it vanished completely, leaving his face curiously blank.

“Right, well my whole point is,” the weasel went on, and that familiar scowl came over that blank face that was, quite frankly, creeping Draco out. He took a step forward so that he was standing on a few inches away, and he poked Draco in the chest.

“If you hurt Harry, Malfoy – whether physically or mentally . . . if you break his heart – you’ll have to answer to me first, and then there’s hundreds more behind me. Get it?”

Draco had to struggle to squash down the immediate reaction to make some kind of scathing comment, but he did it. Swallowing his pride he responded with a soft, “Got it.”

“Good,” Weasel intoned, but he looked a little skeptical so Draco added, “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on hurting Harry in any way, shape, or form whatsoever.”

Shock flashed across the red-head’s face this time, his and everyone else in the room save for Lovegood.

“Uncle Draco,” a small voice called to him from behind, breaking the blonde from his observation of everyone’s reaction to his kind words.

Draco turned around to see the three kids standing in the hall leading to the kitchen – each dressed in their jammies and looked very much like adorable children. The twins were looking rather drowsy, each clinging to one of Teddy’s sleeves – Lucian was even wiping sleep from his eyes.

Lily yawned widely before she caught sight of him, then her entire face lit up with a smile. She held her arms out and rushed over to him.

Draco bent down and scooped her into his arms, smiling softly at the blonde three-year-old.

“Good morning, Father,” Lily greeted him, fixing those wonderful green eyes onto his. “Do you think you can help me fix my hair,” she then asked, tilting her head a little. Draco let his eyes drift up to all that blonde hair that was splayed about her head and let out a low chuckle.

“I most certainly can,” he told her and then proceeded to walk over to one of the slightly empty counters.

He sat her down on it and began to fiddle with her hair; casting spells he knew would help tame it and then fixing it into two pig-tails tied with a green ribbon. Lily beamed at him when it was done and then requested some breakfast.

A few minutes – and several reminders to Teddy that it was ‘Cousin Draco’ and not ‘Uncle Draco’ – later, Draco had all three kids seated at the breakfast nook eating a carefully put together meal.

While he had been doing that the room had slowly cleared of Weasleys until only the weasel, Hermione, that one twin, and Lovegood was left. They, that being the Weasel, were watching him with a considering expression.

“What?”

Weasel shook his head and shrugged.

Draco glared at him a little bit before figuring it didn’t matter all that much.

A tap at the kitchen window drew his attention then, and he turned to look only to shake his head and sigh.

The Malfoy eagle owl was at the window, and from the color of its stomach, Draco had to guess that it was his mother’s.

Hermione let the owl in and it flew over to Draco, land on the table in from of him with an arrogant tilt to its head. Draco rolled his eyes at the display before removing the letter and offering Averill a bit of toast.

The Malfoy crest – a Dragon spewing fire and curled around a single star – was stamped in wax over the seal of the letter.

Draco stared at it for a moment before breaking it and pulling out the letter inside. His mother’s elegant writing looked up at him, and without preamble, he began to read.

It said:

_My little Dragon,_

_Where are you today? You’ve missed out on dinner for two days straight and that is not like you. Has something happened? Are those reporters harassing you again? You know you can tell me or your father, we worry about you. Please reply soon – you’re driving your dear mother spare. I would also like to chat with you; we don’t seem to do that much lately. Maybe some tea soon?_

_Your mother_

 

Draco sighed once again when he had finished reading the letter.

He had quite forgotten that he had had a dinner scheduled with his parents – worrying about Potter seemed to always push all other thoughts from his mind. Well, he’d have to deal with his mother sooner rather than later, no need to drive her into an early grave with worry – like her older sister, Andromeda.

Draco looked up to see Hermione watching him curiously. He ignored her, turning instead to her husband – why she married him of all people he’d never know.

“Weasel, do you mind if I use your office – you  _do_  have an office, right?” the weasel nodded. “Good. I have some business to take care of, so do you mind?”

At this he shrugged and then motioned for Draco to follow, which the blonde did without another word.

“Here it is,” the weasel then said a few minutes later, waving at the dark wood door located at the end of a very much deserted hall. It was the only door on this hall – a hall that was completely bare save for the odd portrait here or there of some kind of landscape – which Draco thought was weird, but he kept the comments to himself.

The room itself was wide spaced, a large cherry-oak desk taking up the center of the room. It sat in front of the fireplace, over which hung a portrait of the entire Weasley clan, minus the dead twin, Harry and Hermione. A thick black circular rug sat in front of the desk, covering a good portion of the marble floor. A large book shelf took up the left wall, books filling it to the brim. Near the bookshelf was a sitting area furnished with black leather armchairs and loveseat. A large window took up most of the right wall, giving view to the back garden where herbs and flowers bloomed aplenty.

It was an overall well put together room and Draco had a good suspicion that Hermione was the one to do it.

“Thanks Weasel.”

The red-head merely grunted and left, closing the door behind him. After he was gone, Draco walked over to the fireplace and threw in some glittering Floo powder.

“Malfoy Manor,” he called into the green flames. 

* * *

 

When Tohru awoke, it was with a splitting headache, a dry taste in her mouth, and an uncomfortable stiffness in her shoulders. Her mind was sluggish and foggy – almost as if she had been drinking, which she most certainly had not been – and she felt like she had beat her head against something extremely hard repeatedly.

For a long time she simply laid there on some kind of hard surface – all her weight pressed down on that one stiff shoulder – as she allowed her mind to fully awake. When she felt reasonably conscious, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and looked around.

She was completely alone in a darkened room – everything from the floor to the ceiling to the walls seemed to be made of hard, cold stone. The chamber – Tohru decided that it wasn’t a room at all but a chamber – was kind of claustrophobic-like. Tohru had just enough space that she was would be able to stretch out her legs if she was lying down.

There was only one window; it had rusty steel bars over it and was set so far up that Tohru felt like she was looking up from a very deep well. A few feet away from where she sat, was a solid wooden door, a circular, heavy metal ring set into it for a handle.

Tohru shifted about, thinking of maybe walking toward to the door so that she could find out where she was, only to find herself quite stuck. She pulled at her arms insistently, trying to bring them around from behind her back, and it took a minute for her to realize her hands were bound by thick ropes.

Panic seized hold of her as she tried to think of a reason why anyone would want to tie her up. She could come up with none – she’d done nothing wrong from what she could remember.

Had she maybe been kidnapped? Tohru wondered as she leaned back against the wall behind her.

Dizziness swept over her for a moment, making the room spin slightly.

She was cold, her body was stiff, and her stomach was pinched together with hunger – letting out little growls ever odd interval.

How long had she been out, she wondered when her head had stopped spinning and her mind had settled again. It had to have been a while if she was getting dizzy from lack of nutrients. But then where exactly was she? Why was she here – wherever here was? What had happened at the hospital; that was where she had been last, right?

Tohru searched her mind, trying to remember how she had ended up in the position that she was now. Yet every time she felt like she had the answer – it was right there on the tip of her tongue – her head would begin to pound painfully and she would be forced to stop.

She wasn’t sure what had happened or how long she had sat there in the semi-darkness trying to get over the blockage in her mind; but after what seemed like hours – maybe even days, it was hard to gage time even with the window – she heard a sound come from behind the door.

“H-hello,” Tohru called out timidly and her voice was scratching and crackling from dehydration. It took her mind a minute to process the fact that the greeting had left her mouth in English. But why English? She wasn’t particularly good in the subject and she certainly couldn’t speak it subconsciously.

Before she could think too much on it, a loud clanking sound had her jumping up in shock.

Tohru looked over at the door with wide, fear-filled eyes, wondering what awaited her.

_It can’t be anything terribly bad_ , she tried to tell herself.

There was another clang and then what sounded like chains being dragged about.

After another moment, the door was dragged open – creaking loudly and scrapping against the stone flooring – and blinding white light streamed into the room.

Tohru squinted in the harsh light, trying to see through it and to the dark figure outlined in the doorway.

The light lessened a bit as her eyes adjusted and the person drew closer.

Brown eyes locked onto amber and Tohru drew in a sharp gasp when she saw the face of her visitor. 

* * *

 

Harry awoke groggily with a bright light shinning into his face and someone shaking his shoulder.

He groaned and pulled away from the hand, burying his head into his pillow and wishing desperately that sleep would pull him under once more. It was to be in vain, for that persistent hand did not stop in its insistent shaking.

“Daddy,” a familiar, girlish voice called to him in a low whisper. “Daddy, you have to wake up.  _Now._ ”

Harry sighed forlornly and turned away from the warmth that the lingering of sleep was promising him. He peered blearily at the two undistinguishable blonde blobs standing at his bedside.

“Wah,” he asked in a horse-sounding voice.

Someone sighed and there was a small clicking sound before Harry felt a cold and thin metal object being pressed into his hand. He lifted it to his face and squinted at the object before recognizing his glasses. With another sight – knowing without a doubt now that he would not be allowed anymore sleep – Harry slipped them on and watched as the twins’ faces swam into view.

“Daddy, Aunt Hermione wishes to see you in the living room in half an hour,” Lily told him importantly. She spoke her words carefully so that each was pronounced without a childish lisp. Harry wondered vaguely when she had picked that up before remembering that this was Malfoy’s child. They were bound to act like a Malfoy, even though they had not been raised as such so far – it was just in their blood.

“Does she,” Harry questioned in a rather amused sounding voice – he even cocked a brow questioningly.

“Yes,” Luke spoke this time with a slight scowl that was reminiscent of Malfoy’s when he was forced to do something he deemed beneath him. “She sent us to get you, claiming that it was rather important.”

“Alright, alright,” Harry finally relented – letting the words come out on a huge sigh. “I’ll be down in a few.”

He then reached over and ruffled both of their hair fondly.

Lily shot him a rather heated glare and immediately began to straighten her hair back to how it was before – fiddling with the green ribbon that held the pigtails in place – as she turned to leave. Luke grinned cockily, not caring that his hair looked like a bird’s nest, before following after his sister. Harry chuckled at both of them once they were gone – so like their father they were, although in different ways.

With that thought in mind, Harry glanced about the room. The blonde aristocrat was nowhere in sight, but a clock proclaiming the time to be after two in the afternoon put Harry at ease.

For a moment Harry simply sat there, gazing out of the window that the clear blue sky and wondering if all that had happened earlier that morning had actually happened.

Had Malfoy really said that he loved him?

Harry was finding that hard to believe. And if he did it was probably an in the moment kind of thing.

For some reason that thought made Harry’s heart clench in pain.

“What do I care,” Harry said out loud to the very-much-empty room. “It’s not like I’m in  _love_  with the git.”

Saying that made his heart ache even more, but Harry was determined to ignore that.

It  _really_  didn’t matter to him one way or the other.

So he liked Malfoy, no harm done there, but  _loving_  that was a complexly different can of worms.

_Denial_ , a voice sang in Harry’s mind, but the Savior simply shrugged it off and went about getting ready. He focused his mind on what Hermione wanted to talk to him about.

_Something important . . . what could that be_ , he wondered.

Thirty minutes later he walked into the living room, chewing thoughtfully on an apple.

The Sohmas were spread out all around the room.

Akito and Kureno were seated together on one couch together, and Hatori and Yuki were seated rather stiffly on another couch together. Ayame and Shigure were wandering around the room gazing at the moving pictures placed here and there of Hermione and the Weasleys and various other people. Haru was sprawled out on the floor on his side, Rin seated inside the curve of his body with her arms wrapped around her knees and a scowl on her face. Hiro and Kisa were on the loveseat by the fireplace, Momiji seated on the floor at their feet. And Kyo was standing against the wall, his arms folded over his chest and a glare set on his face.

Hermione was waiting for Harry near the arch that gave entrance to the room, a disapproving frown on her face.

“Nice of you to finally join us lowly people this lovely afternoon,” she greeted him in a falsely sweet voice and with an arched brow.

Harry shrugged and grinned at her sheepishly.

“Insomnia strikes again,” he tried weakly before taking a bite out of the apple to keep his mouth busy – and so that he didn’t say anything incriminating. Just because he slept with Malfoy inside her house didn’t mean she had to know about it.

“Right and Malfoy just woke up and decided that since this was such a nice day he’d have a change of heart and be cordial to everyone, Ron included,” Hermione shot at him rather sarcastically.

Harry’s face turned as red as the apple and he choked on the piece of it he had in his mouth.

So maybe she  _did_  have to know about it.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out in question when he could breathe a little better.

“Oh please, Harry, do me a favor and try not to insult my intelligence. I know exactly what you and a certain blonde aristocrat were up to last night.”

Harry shifted uneasily and he could see that some of the Sohmas that had caught on were just as uncomfortable with the train of conversation as he was.

“But, the topic of what you do with Malfoy at night is not why I sent your twins to wake you,” Hermione continued to say and Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the change of topic.

However, Hermione’s voice had taken on a lecturing quality that he knew all too well and Harry knew he was in for it.

The bushy-haired brunette placed her hands on her hips and leveled him with a glare. Harry thought she looked very much like Mrs. Weasley; then again she  _was_  Mrs. Weasley now.

“It has just come to my attention, Harry,” Hermione plowed on in full steam, “that your guests are completely ignorant of . . . well . . . just about  _everything_!”

She paused there to give Harry a chance to defend himself but then continued on in full speed when he said nothing.

“What exactly were you thinking,  _hmm_?  _Nothing_ , that’s what. You never think things through. Bringing them here without them even knowing about the Wizarding World, are you  _insane_? You know, you have done some pretty unthinkable things in the past, Harry James Potter, but  _this_! This is just —”

“I was planning on telling them soon, Hermione,” Harry cut across, knowing that given the chance his friend could go on for hours without pause, getting more worked up by the minute. As it was her hands had lifted from her waist to wave about in her anxiety and by the end she was poking Harry harshly in the chest.

“And,” Harry stressed before she could cut him off like she was known to do. “Some of them do know some stuff. I introduced Kisa, Hiro, and Kureno to the Wizarding World.”

“Only those three,” Hermione asked, immediately catching on to Harry petulant tone. “And exactly how many people are in this room Harry,  _hmm_ ,” she then demanded, her eyebrows raised in an act of mock curiosity. She then went on to answer her own question before Harry even had a chance. “Twelve, that’s how many. Three to every  _one_  person that you’ve told! Do you even realize how staggering this is likely to be for them – them growing up thinking that they were normal Muggles?”

“Of course I do, you know that. I may be a half blood but I  _did_  grow up with Muggles and I happened to have coped rather well. And actually, the Sohmas are more used to magic than you may think; they’re not exactly what I’d call  _normal_  Muggles.”

“Yes, well that’s good and all,” Hermione agreed but she was not so easily deterred. “But when,  _exactly_ , were you going to say something to them? And I don’t mean about just the Wizarding World.”

Harry growled lowly at that and his eyes flashed with anger all of a sudden.

Hermione’s glare dropped, her face melting into a look of confusion, but it seemed like Harry’s anger wasn’t directed at her, but rather what her question suddenly reminded him off.

“After I found Tohru and killed the bastard that dared to kidnap her.”

Harry’s tone was so level and to the point that he sounded very much serious. The Sohmas looked a little uneasily at the thought, but Hermione didn’t seem overly concerned.

“Oh, Harry,” the older woman just said on a sigh. Her hands dropped to her sides as she gave her best friend a sad look.

“No Hermione,” Harry told her in a no-nonsense tone. His eyes looked like glints of hard emerald. It was immediately obvious that something more had passed between them, leaving the Sohmas slightly confused.

“Fenir Greyback crossed the line a long time ago and now he’s made it worse. He needs to learn that no one uses my family as revenge.”

Hermione sighed and shook her head in exasperation.

“Fine, I obviously can’t talk you out of doing something moronic,” she said in a sort of cool, offhanded tone. Then she nodded her head in the Sohma’s direction. “But at least explain your stupid heroic  _deeds_ ” – she sneered this part with an angry sort of glare – “to them.”

Then she turned on her heel and walked out of the room in a huff.

Harry heaved a heavy sigh and threw himself down onto an armchair. His apple dropped from his hand, bounced against the floor, and then rolled unevenly away to be forgotten.

“Everything I do is stupid to them,” he said in a wistful voice, like he was speaking more to himself than to them. “They like to say I’m a martyr and they think that my ‘heroic deeds’ will get me killed one day. Yet somehow I’m still here so . . .” He lifted his fingers to add air quotes when he said heroic deeds, then shrugged at the end to show how much he actually believed the so-called words of his friends.

“You really mean it, don’t you,” Yuki suddenly asked after a rather long moment of tense silence. His voice was filled with both wonder and fear. “That you’ll kill him?”

Harry heaved another heavy sigh, sounding incredibly like an old man.

“I supposed I do,” he answered in a low voice, looking down at his hands. “They don’t think I will, but it makes no difference to me. I’ve already got blood on my hands, and when it boils down to it, I’ll have no choice but to anyways.”

“I don’t understand why you have to,” Hatori spoke up in a sort of disapproving tone, like a parent scolding their child. “I'm sure you have some kind of police force, right? Let them capture him and save Ms. Honda.”

“Ha,” Harry barked in response to that, his voice taking on a bitter tone. “As if it were that easy! But no, Aurors don’t even try to help me, not anymore at least. They expect me to help  _them_. And even if they did manage to catch him, they wouldn’t know what to do. Can’t sent anyone to Azkaban these days, they always manage to find some way to escape now that the Dementors are gone.”

“Well then, what do  _you_  do with all of them,” Rin demanded of him.

“All of who,” Harry asked her blankly, raising his gaze so that he could look her straight in the eye. “That bloody war had been over for seven years now and this is the first time we’ve caught so much as a single whiff that they’re even still out there and not lying in a ditch somewhere.”

“Well you must have some way to track them.”

Harry was shaking his head before Yuki could even finish his statement.

“See, that’s the problem with us wizards,” he told the rat with a sardonic smile. “We’re so damn hard to track, much less catch. We have Invisibility Cloaks and Disillusion spells and potions and charms that can change our appearance in a snap of a finger. We can go from one place to another in a matter of seconds, hide our presence behind wards. And then there’s all those damn spells. We have a hard time tracing Light wizards and Dark wizards” – Harry snorted – “impossible. There’s just too much out there and new stuff being invented every day.”

The Sohmas listened to Harry in a stunned silence, not even sure how to grasp the magnitude of the picture he was trying to paint.

“And if that weren’t enough,” Harry went on to say, “they’re people like Greyback. I don’t even know if I can even call him a person, so taken over by his wolf side as he is.”

“His wolf side,” Shigure asked curiously.

“Yes, Greyback is a werewolf.”

“Werewolves aren’t real,” Hatori immediately said in a tone an adult would use to inform a child that Santa Clause did not exist.

“Oh, they are real, very much so; and Greyback is the worst kind.”

“I don’t get it,” Hiro suddenly spoke up, Kisa turning to watch with focused curiosity. “Aren’t all werewolves supposed to be really dangerous? That’s what that Defense book said. So, how’s this Greyback guy supposed to be worse?”

Harry snorted at Hiro’s question, something the young boy did not like, but he let it pass as he waited for the man to answer.

“As if,” Harry told him. “That book, while informational, doesn’t have all the facts. In truth, werewolves and the like are just like normal humans, just with . . . a serious condition.”

“And how would you know that,” Rin demanded in a superior sounding voice. Harry was coming to find that she seemed to like to challenge people.

“Well, seeing as my godson’s own father was a werewolf, I’d think I know quite a bit about them actually.”

“You’re godson’s father is a werewolf,” Hiro ask, skepticism clear in his voice.

“Yes, and I’ll have you know that he was the kindest, loyalist, and most intelligent werewolf ever,” Harry proclaimed loudly. His tone was clearly defensive now, as if daring them to take a jab at the man. “And he was one of the best goddamn teachers to walk Hogwarts.”

From the looks on their face, Harry could tell that they didn’t really understand how important that fact was, but Harry honestly didn’t care that much.

Fact was fact.

“So, what happened to him,” Haru asked rather tactlessly.

“If you must know, he and his wife were killed in the war, just like a good number of decent people. It’s horrible because Remus never did get to know his son. He didn’t even know he could have one after Greyback turned him.”

“Turned him,” Shigure asked, once again curious.

“Greyback hunted him down when he was a child and bit him during a full moon,” Harry spat out, his eyes emerald flames of anger.

“Okay, so you’ve obviously got a bone to pick with the guy, what’s his deal with you though,” Haru asked once more.

“What do you mean,” Harry asked back, his mask of rage falling into one of great confusion.

“Well, why’s he going around kidnapping  _your_  relatives?”

“Tohru’s the only one he’s ever kidnapped,” Harry corrected him. Haru shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

“Well isn’t she your only relative?”

“No, she’s just the only one I really . . . care . . . about,” Harry said, a look of dawning realization coming over him. He suddenly shot up from his seat and shouted “Damn!” so loud, several people jumped out of their seats.

“What! What is it,” Akito demanded, looking angry about the sudden outburst burst but also slightly panicked.

“I . . . I . . .” Harry sputtered as he began to head out of the room. He suddenly stopped mid-stride and his eyes scanned the room thoroughly. “Where’s Kagura,” he then asked in a dangerous sounding voice.

“At home probably,” Hiro was the one to answer, looking very much confused.

“Damn it all,” Harry shouted again and then stormed out of the room, leaving the Sohma’s very much confused. 

* * *

 

Draco stared fondly over at the woman that sat across from him on the leather armchair.

She was poised and neat – her ankles crossed, her hands folded in her lap, and the slightest of smiles on her regal face.

Narcissa Malfoy was, and has always been, a very beautiful and put-together woman. Dressed now in a silver gown that complemented her fair skin and light hair perfectly, Draco couldn’t have been more awed.

He remembered those times when he was little and he’d gaze upon his mother and think that she was an angel.

Mother locked eyes with Draco – icy blue against steel-like silver – and her smile suddenly widened. She reached the short distance in front of her, and picked up the cup of tea Draco had set for her. Still smiling, she took a sip, humming her approval of his choice.

Peach black tea would always be one of her favorites.

“So, Draco dear,” Mother started to speak, setting the cup down so that it clinked against its plate. “Are you ever going to tell me what brought you here?”

She casted her eyes about the room as she asked the question, and from the slight raise of her brow and pursing of her lips, Draco could tell that she accepted Hermione’s taste in decorating.

“I was getting around to that,” Draco told his mother casually, taking a sip of his own tea.

That wasn’t completely true, seeing as they had spent the last hour and a half sitting in a relative silence and talking about trivial things. The only words that had been spoken of thus far that might have some kind of importance to the situation at hand had been when he had told his mother where they were.

“Well, I am listening.”

Draco let out the smallest of sighs so that his mother wouldn’t hear.

“It’s simply just because of a bit of trouble Potter has run into.”

Both of Mother’s eyebrows rose now, but she said nothing, just took another taste of her tea.

“I’ve seen fit to help him on this one; I  _do_  still owe him a bit.”

Mother nodded, but she didn’t look the least bit fooled by Draco’s words – she never had believed any excuse from Draco when it related to Harry.

“And how is Mr. Potter,” Mother asked after a moment, not even attempting to call Draco’s bluff. “I saw that he was in the Prophet a few days ago. What do you think of it?”

“Nothing really,” Draco replied casually with a shrug. “Could be Skeeter spouting off again. She is known to  _stretch_  the truth every now and then.”

Surprise flashed across Mother’s face now and she set down the cup down on the glass-covered coffee table this time.

“And you know this for a fact,” she demanded softly. Draco tried not to act surprise that she had caught his lie this time – even though he had said nothing that could incriminate him.

“I suppose.”

“And you haven’t questioned Mr. Potter on it as of yet?”

Draco diverted his gaze from hers this time.

“I told you Potter’s having a bit of trouble right now,” he spoke softly. “There’s no need for me to rile him up if I’m willing to help.”

Mother’s gaze was burning into the side of his face, but he was determined not to look at her. He would not be tricked into answering truthfully until he was ready to accept this situation completely.

But then again, maybe he should just tell her. She would be delighted to know that she was a grandmother, and she’d always adored children. There was not harm in it.

Draco’s decision was made for him; however, when at that moment the door to the study opened and in walked Teddy Lupin.

The boy was mimicking the twins today – his hair Malfoy white-blonde and his eyes emerald-green. The twins, however, were not with him, which Draco thought was odd – those two always seemed to flock around him like sheep to a shepherd.

“Un—Oops, I mean, Cousin Draco,” the boy spoke up in a soft voice as he made his way into the room. He walked over to Draco, glancing shyly at Mother as he did so. “Um . . . Daddy’s having a . . . um . . . meltdown? . . . Or they called it something like that, I think. Anyways, Uncle George told Aunt Hermione and she told me that you were probably the only one who could probably calm him and get him to make some sense.”

Teddy nodded at the end of statement and beamed up at Draco in accomplishment. Draco couldn’t help it; he patted the boy on the head fondly.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

Teddy grinned even wider at that. Draco moved to stand up, but his mother’s voice had him freezing seconds later.

“Draco, who’s this,” she questioned slowly. She was looking at Teddy with furrowed brows, as if trying to put something vital together.

“Mother,” Draco said importantly, drawing her attention. She gazed up at him patiently and waited for an answer to her question.

“Mother,” Draco repeated and he dropped his hand onto Teddy’s tiny shoulder. “This is Teddy Lupin, your great-nephew.”

Mother’s eyes widened ever so slightly and Teddy moved his head back and forth, looking between the two in confusion.

“Oh,” she finally breathed after a rather long tense silence. Draco was astonished to see tears glistening in her eyes, although they did not fall. She dropped her gaze to Teddy, looking at him with a fondness she had only even shown her own son. “You are my niece’s son?”

“My mother’s name was Nymphadora Tonks,” Teddy told her, pronouncing the name carefully and saying it proudly.

Mother nodded, a smile lighting her face as she gave a little chuckle.

“Then yes, you are my niece’s son.”

“So . . .” Teddy said, trailing off.

“That would make me your great-aunt. But you can just call me Aunt Narci.”

Teddy beamed brightly at that and then said the incriminating words.

“Oh, Lily’s middle name is Narci. Daddy thought it was very fitting since she was a Malfoy and he figured Cousin Draco would like it.”

Mother looked questioningly up at Draco, hoping he could help make some since of what Teddy had just informed her off.

Draco just groaned and dropped his head slightly.

“Not now Mother, I have to go and deal with Potter before he destroys something.”

“If you must,” Mother said dismissively. “But I will accompany you and later you will tell me everything.”

“Fine,” Draco agreed and then turned and walked swiftly out of the room.

His mother and Teddy followed him out and the three all came upon a scene of great chaos.

Harry was pacing the length of the kitchen, tugging at his hair. Objects floated in the air around him and the magic in the air crackled.

The Sohma’s stood safely in the archway leading off the kitchen, watching Harry pace in confused wonder. A good chunk of the Weasleys stood at the back door, also looking in at Harry in confused wonder. Hermione and Ron were the only ones actively trying to calm Harry – but it was in vain.

Draco sighed and moved to approach the raven-haired Savior.

“Potter, what are you doing?”

Harry froze and his head snapped up so that his eyes met Draco’s. A smile flitted across his face before it dissolved into a frown.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?”

Both of Draco’s eyebrows rose as he said, “Excuse me?”

“Look, I need you to go back to Japan and pick up someone,” Harry spoke over him, sounding very much impatient.

“And why can’t you?”

“Because! God damn it Draco, I don’t have time to just stand here and argue with you! I have to move now before Greyback and whoever else snatch up someone else!”

Draco crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Harry hard.

Harry glared at him, his chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon.

“Calm?” Harry merely glared harder. “Good. Now you can tell all of us who else you think Greyback might target.”

Harry’s jaw clenched and he removed his gaze from Draco, glaring down at the floor.

“Kagura Sohma.”

“I’m going to guess that she’s back in Japan, so I hardly doubt Greyback would have the patience to go there just to kidnap one girl when you’re here with all these others.” Harry opened his mouth, no doubt to object, but Draco spoke over him. “Now who else are you unnecessarily worried about. And this time, it better be someone you’re actually related to.”

Harry shot him a dirty look.

“Actually they are – my aunt and uncle, Dudley and his family which also happens to include his witch daughter. I’m pretty sure when Greyback or whoever finds out about that they’ll be interested.”

Draco looked surprised now, and the expression was mirrored on the faces of all those around.

“Alright then,” Draco finally drawled. “Then we’ll just have to go and get them before someone else does.” 

* * *

 

Fenir Greyback.

That was what he had said his name was.

An acquaintance of Harrison’s – they supposedly went way back. He claimed to know Harrison’s godfather or the like.

Even now, hours later after he had left her alone to the cold and dark – Tohru still saw him before her. He was a frightening person, more frightening than Akito had been that one day at the Sohma summer estate.

He had an air about him that made him seem wild and feral – animalistic. And his appearance – Tohru wasn’t one to judge a person by how they looked but . . . All those scars and that malicious gleam in his amber—no, yellow eyes.

Tohru couldn’t have helped the fear.

And she had been right to fear him – the four red welts on her cheek was proof of that. Tohru could still feel the blood dripping down her face. Most of it had dried, but Greyback-san’s nails had dug in deep.

Tohru shivered involuntary, remembering how the man had licked his lips and then laughed at her before he left. Tears cluttered in her eyes and then slipped silently down her cheek. It stung and smarted at the claw marks in her cheeks but she couldn’t stop them.

She didn’t know what was going to happen to her, but she was so very terrified. She just hoped someone would come and find her soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope ya’ll enjoyed that! I’m sure you all enjoyed that scene between Harry and Draco.


	9. Wand, Cloak, ACTION

_What to do? What to do?_

The question ran through Dudley’s head repeatedly as he tried to think of what he should do.

He watched absently as Amaryllis crawled across the carpeted room, babbling unintelligently and drooling all over the place. He could here Gwen humming in the kitchen as she went about the motions of preparing dinner.

His parents were due to arrive in a few minutes and he still wasn’t able to figure out what he was going to do.

He knew he had to tell them about Mary. It would probably be best to do it soon instead of waiting until she received her Hogwarts letter in nine more years. And when he’d tell them he’d have to mention Harry.

His Dad was likely to give himself a heart attack – but Dudley wasn’t all that sure of how his Mum would react. Neither of them had given Harry so much as a passing thought since that summer day seven years ago when they had been driven from their home.

Not Dudley though, nope.

In fact, Dudley had given his cousin a lot of thought. He had been extremely curious about him since the man had saved him from those Dementors.

The memory of those awful creatures had Dudley shivering in his chair, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat before letting his mind drift once more.

He thought about the months following his return to home.

The first thing he had done was gone through Harry’s room and taken out all of his cousin’s books – hiding them in his room where he knew his parents would not even think to look for them. That entire summer before he went off to college, Dudley spent familiarizing himself with the Harry’s world – the Wizarding World.

But that wasn’t enough.

Even after learning all the terms and customs and reading about the spells and creatures, he still wanted to know more. He had so many questions – questions that had been building up since Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones had shown up at Number 4, Privet Drive.

Things like: What was Harry doing? What  _had_  he been doing up until then? What was his role in all of it? Why was everyone depending on him? Why did everyone seem to know about him?

The questions had haunted him and taunted him for an entire year before he decided to do something about them.

He’d gone to Diagon Alley.

It took him some thinking and a whole lot of lying, but once in, Dudley bought an owl, subscribed to the newspaper, and stocked up on a lot of Wizarding books – most of them recent.

And it proved to pay off, mostly.

He now knew just as much about what Harry had went through as the rest of the world.

It didn’t make him any happier to know how his only cousin had suffered, but he had been relived to finally be keyed in.

And he still had the books, locked up in his study so that Gwen would not accidently stumble upon them.

Now, he supposed he’d _have_ to tell her everything.

Better to do it now at the same time when he told his parents about running into Harry. He might even mention the rumor of Harry’s kids – if he could skate over the whole explosion part.

The sound of the doorbell ringing broke Dudley from his thoughts and he got up with a pensive look on his face. He opened the door to see his parents standing there, beaming at him.

They hadn’t changed at all in the past seven years. Vernon Dursley still resembled a large whale and Petunia was still pencil thin with too much neck.

“Mum, Dad,” Dudley greeted them cheerfully, swallowing the nerves that were threatening to come up – no need to tip them off before dinner. “Glad you could make it.”

“Of course, sweetums,” Mum simpered, leaning in on her tippy-toes to kiss Dudley’s cheek.

Dad gave a grunt, clapping Dudley hard on the shoulder as he edged his way by him.

“Oh, hello Vernon, Petunia,” Gwen greeted, poking her head out from the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready in a mo’.”

“No need to hurry, dear,” Mum told her with a tightlipped smile.

Gwen smiled back, winked at Dudley, and then slipped back into the kitchen. Dudley chuckled internally before guiding his parents into the living room where Mum immediately began cooing over Mary.

When Amaryllis had first been born, Mum hadn’t liked the name. She claimed that it was too abnormal – but after a while she grew used to it. Dudley guessed that she had just been worried that Amaryllis would turn out like Harry.

And she did.

Dudley pushed the thought to the back of his head with a reprimand of ‘ _Later_ ’.

Dinner passed easily, although Dudley felt that it could have gone a little slower. He still wasn’t completely sure of what he was going to tell his parents.

Maybe he just shouldn’t mention it at all, but no, he couldn’t do that – that would be inconsiderate of Mary’s grandparents.

“Duddy-dear.”

Mum’s voice pulled Dudley from his thoughts and he looked up to find them all looking at him. Dudley conjured up a smile, looking questioningly at them.

“Is something wrong Dudley,” Gwen asked him, leaning over to place her hand over his.

Dudley turned his hand over and laced their fingers together, giving his wife’s hand a small squeeze. He then took a deep calming breath, figuring that now was as good a time as any.

“Actually, there’s . . . something I want to tell you all.”

Now they were all completely focused on him. Even Mary seemed to sense the seriousness of the situation – she was such a bright baby.

Dudley took another calming breath and then looked over at his parents.

“I saw Harry the other day.”

Mum drew in a sharp breath, her hands fluttering up to her mouth, and Dad’s face turned a nasty shade of red. Gwen looked between them in confusion, not understanding the reaction to this piece of news.

“He told me something,” Dudley continued, speaking slowly. “It’s about —”

“No, no, no,” Dad suddenly boomed, making Gwen jump and Mary look up in surprise. Dad got up from his seat, drawing himself up to his full height so that he could look more intimidating. “I don’t want to hear another word about that boy. I don’t care what he said to you, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Dad,” Dudley pleaded but Dad just shook his head sharply.

Dudley turned to look hopefully at his mother.

“Mum, please hear me out. It’s about Amaryllis.”

That brought the two up and Gwen’s head snapped down to look at her daughter.

“What about Amaryllis,” Gwen asked softly, but for the most part she was ignored.

Dudley would explain it to her in full later, right now; his parents were the ones he needed to concentrate on.

“Harry told me that Mary’s like him, like Aunt Lily.”

Mum let out a strangled sound and Dad’s face turned from red to purple.

“No, no, no,” he boomed again. “We won’t have it! She will not!”

Gwen was looking thoroughly confused now, and slightly fearful. Her head was switching between Dudley and Dad like she was watching some kind of tennis match.

“Dad you can’t exactly change what she is,” Dudley tried to tell him – tried to  _reason_  with him. Dad wasn’t in a reasoning mood however.

“Yes I can. She won’t be one of _them_. No granddaughter of  _mine_. You’ll just have to straighten her out. Nip it in the bud before it gets worse.”

“She’s only one; there is no nipping it in the bud.”

“I won’t have it,” Dad yelled louder than before and Dudley though he sounded irritatingly like a child throwing a tantrum. “I won’t. I won’t! I WON’T!”

Dudley had never felt more embarrassed.

Gwen was now staring at his dad as if he had grown an extra head.

This was not turning out like he had hoped at all.

“Dad listen —” Dudley’s attempt at placating his father was cut off by a loud crack.

Despite the fact that he knew what that sound meant – it was someone Apparating – Dudley still jumped about a foot in the air.

Everyone turned to look out in the foyer where three people were standing, pointing – Dudley’s heart lurched – wands at them.

Dudley immediately recognized Harry, but the blondes flanking him on either side were a complete mystery – although they both looked vaguely familiar, like someone you might have passed on the street.

Harry strolled into the living room first, looking about anxiously before his eyes landed on Dudley. A tense smile tugged at his lips.

“Hey Dud,” he greeted. “Sorry for just dropping in like this.”

Dudley shrugged, struck silent by the unexpected appearance.

Beside him, Gwen sounded like she was hyperventilating – he wouldn’t blame her if she was. Three people  _did_  just pop up inside the house out of nowhere.

“Potter, enough chitchat,” the blonde male said in a drawling voice. “Is this them?” Harry nodded and the man’s lips quirked into a smirk. “Well it’s nice to meet the people who were responsible for raising our Savior.”

“Excuse me,” Dad suddenly blustered, coming out of his shock. “Who the ruddy hell do you think you are, waltzing in here like this,” he demanded, his eyes narrowed into slits. He then pointed a beefy finger at Harry. “And you! I thought we were done with you years ago! And now you show up here, filling Dudley’s head with nonsense and accusing my granddaughter of being . . . of being . . . one of _you_! I ought to —”

“Listen, _Vernon_ , I’d love to stand here and let you yell at me for old times’ sake, but we need to get moving, and  _now_.”

“Why, what’s going on,” Dudley asked, catching the urgency in Harry’s voice.

Harry slid his gaze over to him and he looked slightly apologetic.

“I’ll explain in detail later, but in a nutshell, Tohru’s been kidnapped and I need to get all of my relatives to safety.”

Dudley’s eyes widened slightly, but he was quick to move. He stood up, pulling Gwen up with him, scooped Mary into his arms, and then went to Harry’s side.

“Do we need to bring anything?”

“If you want, but we have to get out of here fast,” Harry told him with a shrug.

“Alright, then we just need Amaryllis’s baby bag.”

“I got it,” the blonde woman, who had so far been silent, said in a singsong. She lifted her wand and gave it a little twirl. Mary’s baby bag came floating down the stairs and settled into her arms. “Oh, how cute.”

“Alright, we all ready,” the blonde male asked, ignoring the woman’s comment.

Dudley nodded.

“Good.”

The man then strolled up to Mum and Dad and took a hold of their wrist. Dad opened his mouth in protest, but with a sharp crack, they were gone.

“Oh my,’ Gwen gasped, her eyes practically popping out of her head.

“Wicked,” Dudley breathed.

“Alright, Luna, you take Gwen for me.”

Luna, as Dudley now knew her to be called, nodded and pranced over to Gwen.

Gwen looked down at the small woman in wonder when she held out her hand.

“Don’t worry. It may be a little uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt.”

Gwen shot Dudley a hesitant look, and at his encouraging nod she grabbed Luna’s hand. Luna smiled then turned on her heel and disappeared with a sharp crack.

“Ready Dud,” Harry questioned softly, grabbing Dudley’s arm.

Dudley nodded and squeezed his eyes tight as Harry turned on the spot and the sensation of being squeezed through a narrow tub washed over him. 

* * *

 

They appeared in the living room to loud yelling that Harry immediately recognized as Vernon’s voice. He wasn’t sure exactly what his uncle – should he still call him that, the man technically wasn’t related to him in any way or form now – was yelling, but he could get the gist.

“Vernon, would you calm down,” Harry tried and failed to call over the yelling.

Vernon didn’t hear him. He continued to shake his meaty fist in Draco’s face, spewing spit and swears at the aristocrats.

They were drawing a crowd now, the Weasleys and Sohmas crowding into the room to see what was going on.

Harry let out an irritated growl and waved his hand in an arc.

Immediately Vernon’s words were cut off, although his mouth kept moving in the motion of words. It took the man a second to realize that no words were escaping from him, and then he whirled around and shot Harry a look of the deepest contempt.

“Now that you’re all nice a quiet I think we can move on.”

Aunt Petunia let out a little whimpering sound and edged her way to Vernon’s side. She casted her eyes around fearfully, but thankfully remained completely silent.

Harry nodded his approval then motioned for the Dursleys to take a seat, which Dudley and Gwen did without complaint.

It took Harry a whole hour to explain the situation, and that was only because he had to first introduce the Dursleys to everyone, and then explain the Wizarding World to Gwen – who seem very surprised but took it all in stride anyways.

By the time he was done Vernon was a nasty shade of puce, Petunia was tightlipped and pale, Gwen was thoroughly shaken, and Dudley was noticeable concerned.

“So, you’re going to save Tohru then,” Dudley asked after a long moment in which Harry had given them to gather their thoughts.

“That’s exactly what I plan to do; I just have to figure out where their stronghold is.”

“Why don’t you just use that spell they’re using to track you?”

Harry stared at his cousin blankly for a long while, not believing that it could possibly be that simple and he hadn’t thought of it. Finally he turned to look over at Draco.

“That’s a good question. Why don’t we?”

“Well,” the blonde drawled with a carefully arched brow. “We’d need a bit of family blood of the person we’re finding, and I doubt we can use yours seeing as they’re probably smart enough to put some heavy wards around your cousin.”

“Yes, that would make sense,” Hermione readily agreed, immediately throwing herself into the complex situation.

Harry almost smiled; it was just like Hermione to start puzzling out a situation, even one he told her to stay out of. Next thing she’d be doing was declaring to go and look in the library.

“But we still don’t know all of who’re involved, and then there’s the matter of how we’ll go about retrieving the blood. And I’m not too sure I know how long this process will take. I suppose I might have a book on it in —”

“The library,” Ron finished for her in amusement and for that she sent him a reproachful glare – to which Ron simply shrugged.

“Alright, so we can’t use mine,” Harry consented, having already guessed at that part. “But Greyback’s a werewolf. Can’t we just use a little of Teddy’s blood?”

Now Draco looked thoughtful, a little crease appearing between his brows. Harry found the slight imperfection to be utterly endearing, but he forced his mind to focus.

“Yes, I suppose that would work. And the spell isn’t all that hard to perform, kind of elementary if you think about it,” he added for Hermione’s benefit.

“Well then what are we waiting for,” Harry barked out. “Let’s go find my cousin!” 

* * *

 

Narcissa sat regally on the stool in the kitchen in which she was the only adult present.

The three other occupants, children barely older than five, sat over at the breakfast nook, curled up next to each other.

Narcissa sat at the breakfast bar on the opposite end of the kitchen from them, watching them interact with one another with a curious air even as she kept an ear on the hushed conversation going on in the other room. She supposed she shouldn’t really be eavesdropping, but she couldn’t really help herself, especially in the house of her enemies – or was that her ex-enemies?

It was hard, and oh so very tempting, but then, so was the distraction in this room.

Little Lily and Lucian – last name unknown although Narcissa had a strong suspicion that it was Malfoy – were conversing in low voices, seeming for all the world like children beyond their age. The two reminded Narcissa so much of Draco when he had been young and carefree that it was almost painful to watch them.

Lily was easily the image of young Draco and how he would act when he had been forced to entertain guest. Every single blonde strand of her hair was placed neatly into place and she talked in a low, soothing tone that was pleasing to the ears – even now as she let out a jingling peal of laughter, her eyes shone brightly.

Lucian on the other hand was more level-headed than his sister – his mere presence giving off a more subtle feel. He was the embodiment of the confident Draco – the one who had just begun his education and believed himself to be more intelligent than his peers. Even the wildness of his hair was something Draco had had at some point – right after he was done playing outside or riding his toy broom.

Narcissa’s heart just about melted as she watched them, and then one of them would glance up at her and she would catch their eye and see their curiosity and her heart would stutter because those were not Draco’s eyes.

Emerald eyes – not silvery grey.

As far as Narcissa was concerned there was only one person alive that she knew to have  _those_  eyes.

But even though the evidence was staring her straight in the face, Narcissa couldn’t make heads nor tails of it. And that served as a reminder that she really hadn’t the slightest clue on any of the happenings in her own son’s life any more.

Where was that little boy that would hide behind her skirts when he had been too shy to meet their guests?

Where was the child who had smiled so brightly when he had opened his present on Christmas morning and found the charmed dragon?

Where was the young man who had run speeding toward her when he had received his Hogwarts’ letter?

_Gone_ , a voice would whisper to Narcissa.  _Gone from the day the Dark Lord pulled him into the Death Eater ranks – gone since the day his aunt announced, with no amount of remorse, that he would participate in one of the Dark Lord’s meetings – gone ever since the Dark Lord gave him his first assignment._

And now to think that she had come to see him on this day assuming that he was being once more being harassed by the press and wanting to come to his rescue – even though she knew her little boy was no longer a boy and very capable of handling himself. But no, he hadn’t needed any sort of help – and it was she who had come to understand something. It was she who had stumbled over the startling fact that she was a grand'mère – and from the looks of it had been one for more than three years now.

To find that out by accident and from the mouth of her, until then, unknown grandnephew.

As much as it frustrated her not to know, Narcissa knew to be patient. Draco was sure to explain everything to her when things had calmed down.

“Excuse me,” a small voice suddenly called out for her attention, drawing Narcissa from her spiraling thoughts.

She turned her head over toward where the children were to see Lily and Lucian looking over at her with twin green eyes. Teddy was also sneaking looks at her from where he had been crammed into the seat between the twins.

“We were wondering,” Lily continued to speak in her light voice. “Who exactly are you?”

Narcissa was taken aback from a moment, startled by the carefully spoken and kind of rude question that came from the three-year-old’s mouth.

“ _Lily_ ,” Teddy piped up before Narcissa could gather back her composure and answer the question asked of her. Both his voice and his gaze, which he settled on the young girl, were reproachful. “Daddy taught us better manners than that. You can’t go about demanding things of people.”

“Well that may be true for you,” Lily told him imperiously in a matter-of-fact tone. “But I am a Malfoy, and Father told me that Malfoys need not to bother themselves with asking questions that they know will be answered anyways.”

Lucian snickered at the look on Teddy’s face and the older boy threw him a glare.

“She’s Narcissa Malfoy, Cousin Draco’s mother – which makes her your grandmother,” Teddy said smartly, no doubt ignoring the slight against his parentage.

And there it was, the straight truth, once again from the mouth of a five-year-old.

“Grand'mère,” Lucian corrected.

Teddy blinked once. “What?”

“Malfoy is French and grand'mère is French from Grandma,” Lily informed him.

“That is most certainly correct,” Narcissa finally manage to get it, a fond smile lighting her face. “But I am also a Black, so it is perfectly fine for you to call me Grandma.”

Lily turned to look at her thoughtfully, her nose scrunching up in thought.

“I like grand'mère better,” she finally decided, and Narcissa couldn’t help the grin from widening on her face.

“Mother.”

All present turned to see Draco standing in the kitchen doorway, a fond smile Narcissa had never seen before lighting his face. Narcissa was very much shocked to find that her baby boy looked so much like a fond father – it was a little disorienting.

“I imagine that Mr. Potter has sorted everything out now,” Narcissa questioned her only child, to which Draco simply snorted.

“If you mean he’s barking orders and gathering his arms, then yes, everything is sorted out.”

Draco moved further into the room and scooted the children out of the kitchen with an order to go and find their Dad – which they did all too willingly.

“Now, I believe you have some questions for me?”

Narcissa smiled at that and got up to join her son at the breakfast nook.

“Yes, I do. Now are you going to just answer them or do I actually have to ask them out loud,” she shot back.

Draco heaved a sigh and rubbed at his temples in a show of weariness.

“I don’t know what more you want me to say, Mother. It’s quite plain what is happening here,” was his off-handed comment.

“You mean to tell me that you now have two children who are three years old that I’ve never even heard a whisper about with the Wizarding World’s savior?”

To this Draco scowled and dropped his hand.

“To be fair Mother, I didn’t even know about this until three weeks ago when that bloody article came out in the Prophet.”

“I wasn’t even aware that you and Potter were intimate with one another,” Narcissa commented dryly, having to refrain herself from reprimanding her son on his language.  _He’s not a child anymore_ , she reminded herself.

“We’re not,” Draco told her with another sigh. “We weren’t.”

“Your children tell a different story.”

Draco groaned and allowed his head to drop back against the cushioned seat. Only around his own mother would he allow himself to behave like this.

“I’m telling you Mother, Potter and I weren’t romantically involved in any way, bar a kiss we shared once when we were seventeen.”

Narcissa’s eyebrows rose at this piece of information – because she could only recall one time when Draco had been seventeen that he had been anywhere near Potter – but she said nothing of it.

“So what? Was this some kind of . . . of one-night stand?”

Narcissa’s nose wrinkled at the thought but Draco’s lack of an answer had her looked over at him in shock.

“ _Was it_ ,” she demanded.

“Sort of,” Draco muttered lowly, looking everywhere but at his mother.

“What do you mean ‘ _sort of_ ’,” Narcissa practically roared.

“Things got a little out of control and we were both drunk. I didn’t think anything would amount from it.”

“Well obviously something did,” Narcissa seethed. “Mr. Potter had to have been planning this. How else would he have gotten pregnant? The only way for a male wizard to do it would be to drink the potion. You know this.”

Draco blinked over at her, because in all honesty, that thought hadn’t crossed his mind at all.

But his mother was right.

A wizard could only get pregnant by drinking a potion, a potion that you couldn’t just buy anywhere and took months to make.

But the question remained, if Potter wanted to have his children why did he run and why was he so scared when it had happened?

Unless he was lying?

But no, his fear had seemed very much real.

Draco rubbed at his temples again. None of this was making any sense – and Draco was sure not to get any answers until Potter had found his kidnapped cousin and was thinking straighter.

“I’ll figure this out Mother,” Draco promised after thinking it over for a while. 

* * *

 

Tohru shivered and curled herself up into a ball near the wall, but she found no warmth there. She was so very cold, but the entire room was like an ice box – a dank wet ice box.

She wondered when she was going to get out of there.

She wondered what time it was.

She wondered how long she had been stuck there.

She wondered when Greyback-san would come back, as he had promised he would.

The thought of the feral-looking man brought about another round of shivers inside of Tohru. Her fear spiked like he was already in the room, and her mind drew gruesome pictures inside her head.

_Harrison, where are you?_  Tohru prayed. It wasn’t the first time she had wondered where he was. She had been wondering ever since Greyback-san had said his name.

Did he know she was here? Would he come and rescue her?

Not for the first time Tohru bereted her wandering mind.

Harrison was barely and adult – what would he be about to do to help her out of this kind of situation. That and he was all the way back in Japan, which Tohru knew she was no longer in.

There was a clanging sound outside of her door and Tohru tired to make herself look as small as possible. The marks on her cheeks tingled as the door slowly opened. She sent a quick prayer to her ancestors and then wondered if somehow she was going to see her mother again. 

* * *

 

“We need a plan,” Hermione insisted for the hundredth time as Harry continued to pace up and down in front of the fireplace. “We can’t go in there without a plan.”

“There is no ‘we’,” Harry grounded out, not looking over at her as he continued his restless pacing.

It was now moving on to day three of Tohru’s kidnapping. No one had slept last night, bar the children, and they were all restless – Harry especially.

Narcissa Malfoy had stayed over, although Harry had yet to see and single wisp of blond hair from her and Draco was running around somewhere, no doubt trying to stay away so that he didn’t end up biting Harry’s head off.

“You’re not doing this alone, mate,” Ron protested from his place next to Hermione by the fireplace.

There were several murmurs of agreement around the room.

Harry whirled around on all of them – his green eyes glowing ominously. Several of the Weasleys and Sohmas flinched at the intensity of his gaze

“No,” he told them in a steely voice that bordered no argument. “I refuse to lose any of you and you.” He then waved his hands at the Sohmas. “None of you have any experience in magic. So even if I  _was_  bringing any of you, which I’m not, I wouldn’t bring any of you.”

Kyo and Yuki both scowled at him but didn’t say anything – none of them had a death wish.

“Harry, mate, don’t be stupid,” Ron argued, the only one confident enough to know that Harry wouldn’t try and hurt him. “You can’t do this alone. It’s suicide.”

“Of course he’s not doing this along,” a voice drawled from the doorway, and then in strolled Malfoy. “I’m going with him.”

“No you’re not,” both Ron and Harry said at the same time.

Malfoy simply waved them off.

“Look, I’m the only one going, _alright_. And no Hermione, I  _don’t_  need a plan.”

Hermione looked distinctly rebuffed.

“That’s fine with me,” Draco drawled and Harry shot him a glare that was sure to freeze hell over twice. “So when are we leaving.”

“ _I’m_  leaving in an hour,” Harry told them, stressing the ‘I’m’ part.

He glare at all those present in the room, daring one of them to argue, before turning tail and strolling out of the room in an angry daze. 

* * *

 

An hour later saw Malfoy, Ron, and Kyo all standing in the front yard to the house, Malfoy and Ron glaring hatefully at each other.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing,” Harry demanded as he strolled up to them, his hands clenched tightly at his side.

“Coming with you,” Kyo commented nonchalantly.

“Like I’m going to let you go and get yourself killed,” Malfoy drawled off-handily.

“And I  _always_  go with you on your crazy stints,” Ron pointed out.

Harry heaved a heavy sigh and rubbed at his scar, which seemed to be where his headache was starting. He honestly did not have the time or the patience to deal with them.

“Fine,” he gave in before looking up and fixing Kyo with a stern glare. “But  _you_ , Kyo, will do everything I say. If I say run, you run. If I say hide, you hide. If I say leave without me, you _leave without me_. Understood?”

As Harry said the words he couldn’t help but remember a moment when those same words had been given to him.

Forcing the image of Dumbledore’s broken body from his mind Harry glared at Kyo until he got some kind of answer. For a moment Kyo looked like he was going to argue, but something in Harry’s expression seemed to change his mind.

“Yes, sir,” he finally agreed with just a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Harry ignored it and motioned for the three to follow him out to where the wards ended. Then he took hold of Kyo’s arm and the three Apparated out. 

* * *

 

They arrived on the edge of a grassy plain.

The only house in sight loomed over them at a great distance away. It looked depilated, kind of like one of those horror houses you’d see in those scary movies – like Jeepers Creeper.

There was a forest a few miles out that surround the house on three sides. The grass was tall, coming up to their knees, and there were tons of weeds permeating the area.

Everything was quiet.

No birds chirping.

No wind blowing.

Not even the slight sound of a cricket.

It was a little unnerving how quiet everything was. It only served to make Harry tenser.

The sable-haired man motioned for his tagalongs to follow him and slowly they approached the house, ears strained for any sort of sound.

Ron moved a little behind Harry, Kyo at his right, and Draco was behind Kyo, covering their backs. Harry made sure to keep the cat in the middle of them at all times, there was no need to worry about him getting hit by some stray spell or get captured.

Harry couldn’t sense any kind of wards as they inched their ways onto the porch of the house. It looked very old, but not even a single floor board creaks. Harry got an ominous feeling like they were being watched but couldn’t see anyone.

Wand held at the ready, he motioned the three back and slowly pushed open the front door.

It drifted open without a sound.

The inside was clocked in darkness, despite the fact that the sun was shining brightly outside.

Harry was a little surprised that they hadn’t been shot at yet; it wasn’t like they were being all that secretive.

That horrible feeling in Harry’s stomach doubled, and he wondered if they got the right place. They had to have, though; the potion went off without a single mistake.

Expecting to be attacked at any second, Harry inched his slight body into the door, Kyo and Ron following after him with Draco bringing up the rear.

There was no one of the first landing that Harry could see in the dim lighting. In fact, the entire first landing looked completely deserted, not even a piece of furniture or anything. Harry motioned for them to spilt up and everyone went in different directions only to meet up in the kitchen empty-handed.

Harry sighed and it was then that he heard it.

It was like a high pitched keening sound, like a hurt animal. It took him a second to realize that it was the sound of metal being pushed.

Harry looked around frantically, wondering where the sound was coming from.

Draco was the one that found the door leading to the basement.

“Bloody hell,” Ron whispered when the door was pulled open to reveal a set of carpeted staircases. The ceiling leading down was brightly lit with a lighting charm on the stone. After sharing a skeptical look, the four slowly made their way down. 

* * *

 

Antonin Dolohov was practically purring with pleasure.

After four years he had finally got one up on Potter. It had been worth the running and hiding from the bloody Aurors that were sent to capture him. Now he had Potter’s stupid cousin.

Oh, he would have fun tormenting her, and Potter would have no idea how to find him.

He could just imagine the look of the brat’s face when he would present him with his dead cousin’s body.

It would be priceless.

The bloody half-blood deserved it, and Dolohov would enjoy it just as much as he enjoyed killing the beast and his wife oh-so-many years ago.

Just the thought of it got his blood pumping.

“Are you  _sure_  they can’t find us here?”

Dolohov’s good mood plummeted as he glared over at his companion.

Avery looked very much like a skeleton now, and Dolohov couldn’t blame him. Two year added on to the fourteen years from before in Azkaban would do that to a man.

“Yes, I am sure,” Dolohov hissed at him.

Two more years in Azkaban seemed to also make the other Death Eater stupider than normal – it was either that or the many punishments the Dark Lord had put him through, the man was forever screwing up.

“Well why can’t they just use the reverse spell on Potter’s cousin,” Avery asked for what had to have been the hundredth time since they managed to kidnap the girl.

“Because,” Dolohov drawled with a roll of his eyes. “I placed wards over her cell. It’s impossible.”

Avery nodded stupidly and Dolohov couldn’t help but think of how low he had sunk – to be saddled with someone with the same brain capacity as the late Goyle and a werewolf.

Speaking of the werewolf, Dolohov wondered where he had run off too – probably to go and torture the girl again. Dolohov didn’t really care, so long as Greyback didn’t kill the girl before he had a change to.

A shrill scream broke through the still silence, drifting up from the cellar that Dolohov had dubbed ‘the holding cell’.

“My, my, that Muggle sure does have a pair of lungs on her,” Dolohov muttered to Avery’s amusement.

The skeletal man snickered.

There was the sound of feet pounding on the stair case, and Dolohov turned to see Greyback emerge from the cellar with a smug smile on his grizzly lips and blood dripping from the claws of his left hand – the other holding tight to his wand.

“You didn’t hurt her too bad, did you,” Dolohov asked with a raised brow.

Greyback shook his shagged head.

“Naw just scared her a bit. Might of overdid it with the Crucio some.”

Avery snickered again and Dolohov felt like kicking him in the head.

“Whatever, just don’t kill her yet.”

Greyback nodded and then lumbered over to a corner of the room to where the fridge was.


	10. Rescuing the Damsel-In-Distress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone mentioned that I should probably explain why I changed Harry's name to Harrison and honestly I completely forgot to bring that up so . . . oops. The reason why is that Harry is kind of in hiding, or at least trying not to gather to much attention. However, he's reluctant to give up the name his parents gave him for the sake of being anonymous. So . . . change his name a little bit and disappear into the Muggle world . . . and well Wizards aren't the bright about these kinds of things are they. Besides tracking spells can only go so far. If that's really confusing you can inbox me!

The stairs creaked ominously under the deceivingly thick carpet beneath Harry’s feet.

So far that and the oh-so-careful breathing of the three men behind Harry were the only sounds being made. The four of them had been walking down the same narrow stairway for what seemed like hours. It was a little discerning, to be trapped in the low ceiling stairway, and the bright light emitting from the stones were not helping. In fact, it only served to make Harry feel more claustrophobic and like he was trapped in an insane asylum. And the downward spiraling was not helping dissuade that notion any.

“Can you see the end yet, mate?”

The whispered question came from Ron, who was bringing up the very rear and could most likely not see over Kyo – who was actually taller than him.

Harry made no move to comment, because, in all honestly, he was getting a little bit annoyed with the boring repetition of the décor.

The foursome walked on in silence, the sound of their breaths echoing off the walls in a manner that seemed obnoxiously loud. Harry kind of wished something – anything – would happen to break the monotony of it all.

An ear splitting shriek sliced through the air, make Ron jump and bang his head harshly against the low ceiling. Harry cursed under his breath, damning faith for twisting his wish. He had never actually heard Tohru scream before, but the icy cold sensation in his stomach told him he just had.

 _Damn it all,_  he swore in his mind as he began to pick up speed, no longer concerned if the pounding of his feet on the stairs could be heard. He was too busy cursing the damned werewolf to the deepest pit in hell.

It was with a sense of raising triumph – something he would later liken to the feeling given during a phoenix song – that Harry spotted the neat wooden door at the very bottom of the staircase. It was as if the sudden adrenaline rush had magically conjured the figure.

Harry burst through it and sprinted into the brightly lit room, hand clenching tightly around his wand. 

* * *

 

Tohru was in such great pain, she was sure that she’d pass out any minute now – only she couldn’t. Every time it seemed like she’d drift away, Greyback would speak some words she could just barely understand, and then she would suddenly be filled with energy again. And then the pain would come back and the cycle would be repeated.

She felt like she was going through an endless cycle of torment. Never before in her life had she ever wished so desperately for death to come and take her. And never before had she thought that it would take this long to get her. She hoped it hadn’t been like this for her mom – that was a heartbreaking thought.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Greyback’s gravelly voice spoke in her ear, his musty breath ghosting over her face. Tohru felt an overwhelming urge to gag overcome her but she pushed it down. She felt his clawed hand run through her hair before getting a hard grip and pulling her head back hard so that she was looking up into his scared face. His malicious yellow eyes gazed down at her and a leer made its way onto his face, showing off the blacked pointed teeth.

“There’s no giving up I’m afraid,” he growled on a rumbling chuckle. He lifted his hand and ran a clawed finger run down her cheek. Tohru felt a welt form and hot, wet blood trickle down her cheek. Tears prickled at her eyes but she willed herself not to cry. She could at least try not to show him any more weakness.

What would her mother do?

“We have to keep you alive for our honored guest. I’m sure he’ll be arriving soon – for your sake.” He then barked out a loud bark of a laugh that had Tohru shivering in fear.

Still laughing loudly, he forcefully let go of Tohru’s hair in such a harsh manner that her head crashed solidly into the stone walk. Darkness crept around Tohru’s vision before Greyback said the magic words and suddenly everything the startling clear again.

“I’m not done having fun with you.” 

* * *

 

Dolohov rolled his eyes when, predictability, another annoying girlish scream arched its way up from the dungeons. From where he sat perched in the corner, Avery let loose a string of snickers that sounded a lot like wheezing; and Dolohov though it made him sound more demented than he was – or maybe not. Dolohov sighed and rubbed at his eyes – if only to cover up the fact that his eye was twitching.

 _Why did I team myself up with these two . . . scum?_ He wondered vaguely. Oh yeah, it was because anyone that was actually  _good_  was either incarcerated or dead – or they had deflected but he really didn’t want to think about the Malfoys right now.

With another sigh – Merlin he was sounding old – and a shake of his head, Dolohov stood up, thinking that maybe a Calming Draught might help his survive this insanity.

He was just passing the door when it burst open.

Dolohov frozen and a spike of fear struck through him as he looked into the blazing green eyes of Harry Potter. It was like looking straight at a killing curse. Somewhere in the corner Avery let out a cowardly whimper and Dolohov couldn’t even find it in him to blame him.

“Where is she?”

The low growl was definitely not what Dolohov expected from one Harry Potter – that and the murder in his eyes.

“ _Well?_ ”

“I . . . I . . .” Dolohov stammered before remembering why he was doing this. Summoning courage from . . . well he didn’t even know where from – the former Death Eater pulled himself together and threw the Boy-Who-Lived a cocky smirk.

“Well Potter, you certainly kept us waiting.”

“I don’t have time for your games, Dolohov. Now tell me where she is and I  _might_ just make your death painless.” As he said this, Potter twisted his wand threateningly in his hand.

It wasn’t raised however, so Dolohov didn’t think to take the boy seriously.

“Now, Potter, I’m sure you’d rather cooperate, given the circumstance. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to —”

Dolohov never got to finish for in that moment Harry exploded.

Even Draco, who could admit that even drunk he was a very sharp person, couldn’t explain what had gone on in the next two minutes. All he could say was that there was a loud bang, a huge cloud of dust, some flash of light, and then everything was over.

Never before had Draco given a thought to how powerful Harry could be. But now, he could fully understand why everyone had claimed him as the Savior of the Wizarding World., and why the Dark Lord had claimed him as a rival.

Draco stood up, although he couldn’t really tell you when he had dropped to the floor, and coughed on the lingering dust.

Harry was the only one still standing.

Ron had Kyo by the neck on the floor and Dolohov and Avery were tied up together at Harry’s feet. The dark-haired man was panting heavily, his burning gaze fixed on the unconscious duo and his wand held so tight in his hand his knuckles were white.

“You didn’t kill them,” Draco spoke first, coming to stand beside the smaller man.

“They don’t deserve to die. If I killed them I’d only be doing them a favor.”

Draco was just the tiniest bit concerned with the hate coating Harry’s words but then the Savior turned away from the bonded men and he was suddenly Harry again.

“Are you two okay,” he questioned as he helped the two red-heads stand.

“Warn me next time you go power crazy, mate,” Ron muttered, brushing off his jacket. Kyo merely stared at Harry, wide-eyed.

“Sure,” Harry responded on a laugh before turning to face the nice metal door nestled into the far wall. “Well there’s only one way to go.”

That was all he needed to say before the four moved on – Dolohov and Avery forgotten for the moment. 

* * *

 

Tohru was crying again, even though she had told herself she wouldn’t again and that she would be strong like her mother.

It didn’t seem to matter though. The pain was just too much and the torture . . .

Tohru felt like she was drowning. Everything swam dizzily around her and then became clear only to become a blur again.

Greyback’s rough chuckle took over her mind until she thought that she would go crazy.

Would this be the last thing she heard as she finally died? Or would she be hunted by this forever? Could she even live with this voice running through her mind? Would she ever get out of here? Would anyone come to save her?

The pain suddenly stopped, leaving her body to tremble in its wake.

It took a few second for Tohru to realize that Greyback had stopped his torture, and with a quaking breath, Tohru opened her eyes fully to look around.

Greyback was standing right in front of her, but his back was turned to her. Tohru stared at the man’s shoe for a moment, before moving her head a little to see around it.

What she saw had her entire body sinking with relief before she blissfully passed out.

The image of Harry – standing in the doorway of her cell, his face full of fury and his stance purely aggressive – was imprinted on the inside her eyelids. 

* * *

 

Hermione paced nervously in front of the fire, back and forth, back and forth until finally, someone snapped.

“Will you please stop that? It’s not exactly helping anything.”

The tense exclamation from the normally put-together Hatori brought Hermione up and she turned to face the Sohma doctor. He was sitting in between Ayame and Shigure, the former of whom was rubbing Hatori’s back in a soothing manner.

“Sorry,” Hermione muttered sheepishly. “I’m just not used to waiting like this. Normally I’m right there with them in the thick of things.”

Hatori waved her apology away and dropped his head into his hands.

What followed was tense silence as everyone wondered how things were going with the guys and with Tohru.

“This is stupid,” little Teddy Lupin suddenly declared, throwing his hands up as he broke the silence. The twins, who sat on either side of him, nodded in unison. “It’s obvious Dad’s gonna be just fine. He’s in— inv—”

“Invincible,” Hermione supplied helpfully.

Teddy beamed his thanks as he said, “Yeah, that,” and nodded his head enthusiastically.

“It’s simple,” Lily piped up. “Daddy will bet the bad guys, save his cousin, and then come back home with Father.”

Luke nodded in turned with his twin’s words.

Hermione smiled at the young ones innocence. It was obvious that they had a lot of confidence in Harry; it was a little inspiring to see. Hermione used to feel that way during the war – as a matter of fact she still held that kind of confidence in Harry. That didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to worry about him, though.

With a sigh, Hermione turned to look at the clock hanging on the wall.

It was a Weasley family clock, given to her as a wedding gift. Everyone’s hands were shown as being at ‘home’ except for Harry and Ron. Their hands were pointed at ‘mortal peril’.

With a shake of her head, Hermione turned away.

“Who wants some lunch,” she asked of the group.

Gwen and Molly immediately jumped up, latching onto the means of distraction like leeches. That being all she needed to say Hermione went into the kitchen to start fixing lunch, the two women trailing after her and swapping recipes.

It was after lunch that the door to the kitchen burst open.

Everyone still in the kitchen turned to look at the sudden intrusion. Hermione let out a loud gasp and dropped the plate that was in her hand. It crashed loudly against the ground, scattering into porcelain pieces and leftovers.

Standing in the doorway was Ron Weasley.

He looked perfectly alright, if not a little bit on the battered side. It was who he held that had Hermione gasping.

In his arms was the unconscious form of a tiny brunette.

She looked a whole lot worse off. Her entire face looked like one big bruise with splashed of red and brown blood upon it. What there was of her clothes were torn and hanging off her body, and her arms and legs bore witness to slashes that looked like either knife wounds or whip marks – maybe even both.

Hermione took all this in within seconds before Ron rushed into the house and disappeared to what Hermione had dubbed as the hospital wing – but was just a room she had set aside from whenever Harry came over with questionable bruises, and that had happened a lot in the past.

Kyo followed after Ron without even acknowledge anyone. He looked perfectly fine except that he had a small limp.

“Where’s Harry,” Hermione questioned out loud. But she need not to.

Malfoy was next through the door, carrying a pale looking Harry, bridal style, in his arms. Harry was awake and glaring up at the blonde, his arms crossed over his chest. There were a few bruises on his arms and face, but other than that he didn’t seem to hurt.

Malfoy looked a little worse off, with red blood dripping from his forehead and coloring a little bit of his hair.

“What happened,” Narcissa was the one to demand of her son.

“Nothing,” Harry answered before Malfoy got the chance. “Greyback’s dead, if anyone wants to know, and Dolohov and Avery are in the custody of the Aurors. Turns out Dolohov was behind the whole operation.”

“That doesn’t explain why Malfoy’s carrying you,” Hermione pointed out as Malfoy glared down at him.

“This idiot here went a little too far and is so exhausted magically that he can’t even stand,” Malfoy drawled out, almost sounding bored, but there was a fire burning in his eyes.

“Malfoy’s exaggerating. I can walk perfectly fine. He’s just being stubborn and won’t let me because he thinks I hurt myself,” Harry declared self-righteously with a roll of his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have to think that if you hadn’t literally thrown yourself in front of that curse,” Malfoy said back in the same tone with an added glare.

Harry returned his glare with one of his own.

“I did it to save your life.”

“I never asked you to save my life.”

“Well fine then. Next time I’ll let the curse hit you!”

“Fine,” Malfoy just about shouted back.

“Fine,” Harry repeated, throwing his hands up.

With that said the two lapsed into a glaring contest.

Hermione and just about everyone else watched the scene with a faint feel of humor.

“They’ve been like this sense we rescued Tohru,” Ron voice came over the silence.

The Weasley strolled into the room and walked to his wife.

Hermione grinned and kissed his jaw before asked, sweetly, “Would you like to tell us what happened?”

Ron sighed and threaded his fingers through his hair.

“Sure,” he finally agreed. “But let’s do this in the living room and give these two their space.” He pointed at Malfoy and Harry, who were still glaring at each other and ignoring everyone else.

With that said the group drifted out of the room, leaving behind the two mates. 

* * *

 

_Harry and Ron lead the group down the long hallway, wands raised at the ready and eyes trailing everywhere. Draco and Kyo brought up the rear, Kyo’s body completely tense._

_Draco thought he looked like a cat ready to spring up._

_The hallways stretched out for what seemed like forever. The blonde was sort of getting sick of all these endless staircases and hallways. He knew magic could be used to make places bigger than they seemed, but this was just pointless._

_There were no windows, or portraits, or doors._

_Nothing._

_It was just an endless hall of blank walls._

_Draco reasoned that the place was created like this to keep people from finding what was hidden, but that didn’t make it any less annoying._

_Harry suddenly came to a stop, throwing his arm out to make Ron stop also._

_Draco peered over the smaller man’s shoulder and also spotted the door._

_It looked just shy of ominous, just sitting there as innocent as ever. There was nothing else for what seemed like miles._

_“Now what,” Ron whispered lowly._

_Harry grimaced, his hand tightening on his wand. He could feel the wards rippling around the door; it was what had made him stop. He could also hear what was on the other side of the door and he didn’t like it._

_It sounded like Greyback was torturing his cousin._

_With a low, animalistic growl, Harry pointed his wand at the door and blasted it open._

_The door shot inward, swinging on its hinges to crash into the wall. Splinters of wood fell through the air and Harry watched as Greyback whirled around._

_It pleased him a little to see the fear that flashed across the beast’s face, but that small pleasure was easily overshadowed by the absolute rage that came over him when he caught sight of Tohru._

_She looked like a broke doll, her brown hair all tangled around her face and stained a rusty brown in some places. There were slashed all over her arms and legs and some dark purple bruising on the skin of her stomach. Harry could see it all too clearly because her clothes were torn beyond recognition. What was left of it was enough to cover her private and there wasn’t a lot of that._

_Harry knew the moment Tohru recognized him._

_Her whole body seemed to melt and a tiny smile crept onto her face before she seemed to grow unconscious._

_Harry was glad she was for he hadn’t wanted to scar her mentally for what he was about to do – which was tear Greyback into tiny pieces._

_“Ah, Harry Potter,” Greyback growled out and then had the audacity to lick his lips. He seemed to have overcome his initial fear, but Harry was about to correct that._

_“You’re dead.”_

_Greyback grinned, flashing off his blackish-yellow teeth._

_Harry grinned back, his smile filled with menace. He felt Ron and Draco back out of the room, for which he was glad. If he was gonna go all out, he didn’t want to hurt them._

_And then it started._

_Harry darted forward, crouched low with his wand held down at his side. Greyback moved a little to the side to avoid the charge, which was exactly what Harry had wanted as he casually waved his wand to cast a powerful ward around Tohru’s body._

_Greyback seemed to realize this and used Harry’s momentary distraction against him._

_Harry managed to dodge the sickly purple spell at the last moment; he even felt the heat of it flutter past his ear._

_Rolling with the momentum that came with the dodge, Harry shot out three simultaneous Stunners. Greyback threw up a shield before shooting off another unknown Dark Curse. Harry ducked instead of chancing a shield, and as he dropped his shot off a Concussion Curse. Greyback dodged this and shot out a Conjunctivitis Curse followed by a low level Stunner, all the while being unconsciously backed into a wall._

_Harry smirked, shielded against the two spells before dropping low to charge the werewolf. Greyback’s eyes widened and he back up only to realize he was trapped._

_Within seconds Harry had the beast bounded and gagged._

_Realizing that it was all over, the other three men walked into the room._

_Kyo immediately flew to Tohru’s side as Draco and Ron joined Harry in standing over Greyback._

_“Wow, that was fast,” Ron muttered, sounding a little amused._

_Harry shot his friend a glare to which the taller man shrugged._

_“This was ridiculously easy,” Draco drawled with pursed lips._

_“That’s ‘cause Harry was in the zone,” Ron told the blonde flippantly. “And these three were kinda stupid.” Draco, however, still looked suspicious so Ron went on to reassure him further. “Look. Don’t sweat it. We got them and Tohru’s safe, that’s all that matters.”_

_“I don’t need your words of reassurance Weasley,” Draco spat out, turning to glare at the older man. Ron opened his mouth, retort ready, only to have it choked out of him when Draco suddenly collided with him._

_Ron stumbled back and the two purebloods spun around just in time to see a well placed curse slam into Harry’s body._

_The Savior dropped to his knees, hunched over and eyes squeezed tight in pain._

_Dolohov stood in the doorway, wand in hand and breathing heavily._

_Within a flash Draco had his wand up and was in a duel with the heavy Death Eater. Lights flashed as spell after spell was thrown around the room._

_Ron threw up a heavy shield as a stray curse came his way. It bounced off and headed for Kyo, who seemed oblivious of the fight as he leaned over Tohru. With a low curse, Ron ran toward the other red-head. He made it in time to divert the blunt of the curse, but Kyo still got hit in his leg._

_The teen let out a low hiss and clutched at his leg. Red liquid seeped from between his fingers._

_Ron pushed the teens hand aside to look at the damaged. It wasn’t that bad, it would need a looking at but a simple patch-up would help. Ron was very much thankful at that very moment that Hermione had taught both him and Harry some basic healing spells. He applied it then and received a low thanks._

_Ron shrugged the thanks away and turned back to watch the duel taking place._

_Draco and Dolohov seemed almost evenly matched. Actually, Dolohov seemed just a little bit better. He had gotten a good one in on the Malfoy if the blood dripping from Draco’s head was any clue._

_Without any thought, Ron jumped up to try and help his former enemy._

_He was knocked to the side by a heavy body._

_Rolling with the blow, Ron grabbed onto his attacker to see that Greyback had miraculously gotten out of his bindings. The werewolf was snapping at him, trying to get in a good bite. The two rolled around on the floor, trying to get the upper hand. Ron got in a good punch, breaking Greyback’s nose._

_Blood gushed out between the two, splattering their clothes. Greyback growled and tried to claw at the Weasley’s face. Ron was successful in avoiding the reaching hands long enough from someone to pull Greyback off of him._

_Harry was there, he seemed to have recovered from the curse Dolohov had hit him with._

_Ron noticed now that sometime during his fight with Greyback, Dolohov had been bonded and gagged again. Draco was standing over him now, breaking heavily and glaring down at the Death Eater._

_Ron scrambled to his feet and looked over at Harry._

_He was swaying on his feet and looking a little on the pale side, but his wand was steady as it was pointed in Greyback’s face._

_There was a long pause in which everyone wondered what Harry was going to do. The small man looked absolutely murderous, and with good reason._

_“Give me, one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” Harry growled out._

_Greyback swallowed thickly but said nothing._

_Harry glared at him for a long time before lowering his wand._

_“You disgust me,” he spat and turned away from the werewolf._

_It was the wrong move, as the beast jumped up and lunged at the Savior._

_No one could really explain what happened next._

_Harry had whirled around; eyes wide with shock, and some weird grayish green light had shot out of his wand and hit Greyback in the chest._

_The werewolf’s eyes bulged out and there was a moment’s pause before he dropped with ground and began to writhe around in pain._

_The quartet wasn’t really sure for how long they stayed there watching the werewolf twitch around like some kind of mutated worm. But when the beast finally lay still, Harry announced that he was dead._

_“How,” Kyo wanted to know._

_Draco moved to the werewolf’s side and peered at the blood that was running from his mouth. He muttered a Lumos and examined it. The light reflected off of something silver and the blonde pulled back._

_“Silver,” he announced. Kyo had continued to look confused while Ron and Harry shot each other looks. “There was silver in his blood,” Draco explained for Kyo’s sake. “He was burned from the inside.”_

_Harry looked a little green and swayed on his feet before dropping to his knees._

_Ron made a disgusted sound and turned away from the dead body._

_Kyo made a small ‘Oh’ sound._

_Draco sighed and stood up, dusting off his pants._

_“We should get out of here and turn in Dolohov and Avery.”_

_Harry nodded vaguely and tried to get up, only to fall back to his knees. His skin looked almost translucent and even on his knees he was swaying._

_Draco let out a breath muttering a low ‘idiot’, before he reached out and scooped the Savior up into his arms._

_Harry made a sound of outrage and glared at the blonde._

_“It’s not like you can walk yourself,” the blonde muttered with a roll of his eyes. Then he directed his attention to Ron. “You, go get the girl.”_

_Ron glared at him but did it anyways as Kyo got shakily to his feet._

_Draco nodded, satisfied, before flicking his wand at Dolohov and levitating the man out of the room._

 

It was silent in the room and everyone went over what Ron had just reencountered.

Hermione had a faintly mortified look on her face and Ron knew she was thinking the same thing he had thought – Harry had actually killed a person, or rather beast but still Greyback had once been a person just like any other.

Maybe it wasn’t intentional, after all he had a history of doing magic he wasn’t even aware he knew, but the action was still there.

The two shared a look as they wondered how this new development would affect their best friend. 

* * *

 

“Would you please put me down,” Harry asked as nicely as possible, but his irritation still came through. Therefore, he was a little surprised when Malfoy settled him down on the island. That wasn’t exactly what he had wanted, but at least he was no longer being carried, which had been exceedingly embarrassing.

Harry sighed and made a move to get off of the island, only to find that he was unable to move. While getting over his brief shock, Malfoy had settled himself between Harry’s legs.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the blonde aristocrat.

“Will you move,” he asked when it looked like Draco wouldn’t.

“No, I’m good here,” the pureblood commented with a smirk.

Harry almost screamed in frustration but managed to contain it.

“What do you want from me Malfoy,” Harry demanded. “You’re not normally this annoying.”

Draco arched a brow but brushed aside the last comment to answer the question.

“I simply want the truth.”

Now Harry’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“About what,” he asked slowly.

Draco sighed and shook his head a little before fixing serious grey eyes onto Harry.

“About that night.”

Harry tensed a bit, but the confused expression didn’t leave his face.

“I already told you about what had happened,” he spoke slowly as if Draco was someone mentally challenged. “What more is there to say?”

Draco narrowed his eyes, the grey orbs moving around Harry’s face as if searching for something.

“You claim,” the blonde started slowly as if measuring his words, “that you didn’t plan on . . . on  _that_ happening. But if you didn’t . . . I just don’t understand.”

The blonde seemed to be struggling for words, which was a first that Harry had ever known. There was also a crushed look to him, like someone had . . . had . . . had ripped his heart out.

“What don’t you understand,” Harry asked carefully.

Draco let out a low oath and pushed away from Harry.

“How are the twins possible if none of that was planned,” he finally demanded, shouting the words as he threw his hands up. “Did you . . . did you  _use_  me?”

Harry drew in a breath at the defeated look that crossed the normally confident blonde’s face. He didn’t understand it, where it came from, and it just about killed him.

“No.”

“No what,” Draco demanded, shouting the words into Harry’s face.

“It . . . it wasn’t planned. None of it was. I didn’t use you. I would never.”

The blonde didn’t look the least bit convinced. In fact, he seemed even more hurt.

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“Then explain to me how.”

Harry hesitated, his eyes searching the blonde’s.

He hadn’t told anyone about what he was. He’d planned never too, but here was Draco,  _his mate_  for Merlin’s sake, asking for an explanation. And didn’t the blonde aristocrat deserve to know the truth, the whole truth. Harry owed him at least that, right?

“Alright,” the Savior finally agreed.

Draco threaded his fingers through his hair as if he were fixing it then seemed to pull himself together, reconstructing his Malfoy mask as if he were preparing himself for Harry’s confession.

“Well then Potter, spit it out.”

Harry nodded and swallowed thickly while he tried to gather all of his courage, which at the moment didn’t seem like a lot. Looking down at the island top beneath him so that he didn’t have to see Draco’s reaction, Harry finally spoke.

“I’m . . . I’m not human.”

There was a long beat of silence.

Harry wondered what was going through Draco’s mind, but didn’t dare to look up. He didn’t want to see if Draco was condemning him.

“Well of course you’re not human,” Draco finally said and Harry looked up at him in shock. “You’re a wizard. None of us are exactly human.”

Harry sighed at that and shook his head ruefully. Of course Draco hadn’t gotten it after all.

“That’s not what I meant,” the Savior told him quietly. His eyes drifted to the side as he waited for the Malfoy to figure it out.

“I have a creature heritage,” he finally said when the silence became too much.

Harry heard Draco inhale sharply and then it was quiet.

Harry began to panic a little when the silence became too long, but he was determine not to look at the blonde male until he was sure Draco would accept him.

“Well,” the blonde finally said slowly. “That explains . . . a lot.”

Harry chanced a look in Draco’s direction and was surprised to find that the Malfoy looked curious instead of disgusted.

“So . . . what is your creature?”

“A Nyx,” Harry found himself saying.

A shocked look crossed Draco’s face and he suddenly looked even more interested in Harry.

“That’s . . . extremely rare. I didn’t even know men could be Nyxes.” Harry shrugged. “I’m going to assume it was from your mother’s side?”

“Uh . . . yeah. It was a recessive gene. It actually skipped about five generations. I only found out when I traced the family back,” Harry said all of this in a rush, not even caring what it was that he was saying. He was just relieved that Draco wasn’t treating him like a leper.

Draco smirked at him, like he could read Harry’s thoughts.

“So . . . you’re not . . . freaked out by all this?”

Draco shrugged.

“If it was someone else, I probably would be,” he admitted. “But now that I think about it, you do happen to have the luck of a Nyx. And you’ve always been crazy powerful.” As he said this the blonde moved back over to Harry, settling in between the Savior’s legs once more.

“Well that’s a relief.”

“Really? Why,” the aristocrat question, one brow arched.

Harry shrugged and avoided the blonde’s gaze.

“You know,” the taller man said after a moment’s silence. “Nyxes have mates, don’t they?”

It was more of a statement, but Harry answered anyways.

“Yeah.”

“I wonder who your mate is,” the blonde commented almost casually. Harry swallowed nervously and shrugged his shoulders. Draco continued speaking, “I think I read somewhere that it take a Nyx five years to find their mates before they go crazy.”

“Yeah,” Harry found himself saying again, but Draco didn’t seem to be paying him all that much attention.

“I read that they also mate for life. In fact, I read that they don’t get involved with anyone while they search for their mates. Did you know that they’re repulsed by anyone trying to advance on them during that time period?”

Draco’s eyes were gleaming now as he gazed at Harry, that one brow arched.

Harry held his breath.

Okay, so it was obvious that Draco now knew that he was Harry’s mate. But what would he do with that information now.

“So, Potter,” Draco spoke lowly. “Would you like to tell me something?”

And now it was obvious that the blonde was out to torture Harry.

Draco stared at Harry, like he was waiting patiently for news he already knew. Once again, Harry found himself scrambling to gather his courage.

He made a move to drop his gaze, but Draco reached out and grabbed his chin, making sure Harry was looking straight at him.

With a burning face, Harry said, “You’re my mate.”

“Ah,” Draco said back, adopting a look of false shock.

Harry wanted to hit him, but he was too mortified and afraid the blonde was going to turn him down.

“Well, I suppose it’s lucky for you that I just so happen to like you.”

Harry blinked, taken aback, but before he could even gather his thoughts, Draco had pushed his glasses up into his hair and pulled him forward.

Their lips locked and Harry melted into the blonde. Draco made a humming sound of approval before running his tongue over Harry’s bottom lip. Harry opened up his mouth, allowing Draco to plunge his tongue in.

This kiss was just as sweet as the first one they had shared, and every one afterwards. Harry was living on cloud nine as his hands immediately went to Draco’s hair. In response, Draco’s arms wound around Harry’s waist, pulling their bodies close together.

They snogged for what felt like forever until they had to break for air.

It was then that Harry noticed Draco’s hand creeping into his pants.

Harry weakly tried to swat the wandering hands away – they  _were_  in the kitchen after all; a place where people ate – but Draco was persistent. Harry actually didn’t mind all that much, but that was probably because he was painfully hard at the moment.

Breathing heavily, the Savior allowed his mate slip those hands into his pants, and he let out a low moan when Draco grabbed his length.

“Someone seems very happy,” Draco had the nerve to say.

“Sh . . . shut-up . . . Malfoy,” Harry gasped out, unconsciously spreading his legs wider to allow Draco better access. Surprisingly the Malfoy did, for which Harry was grateful.

Feeling a little daring, Harry turned his head and nipped at the pale expanse of Draco’s neck. The Malfoy let out a gasp that convince Harry he should do more. Trailing nips and kisses up and down Draco’s neck, it wasn’t long before his hit upon a spot that made Draco actually succumb to a moan.

Harry grinned, triumphant, and applied all his attention to that one spot, a tangle of muscles located just under Draco’s ear. Draco, in turn, put his attention into jerking Harry off. It wasn’t long before the Savior found himself exploding into the pureblood’s hand – but Draco in turn had a dark bruise in the form of a hickey on his neck.

For a long moment the two stayed the way, both panting harshly, before Draco moved and murmured a cleaning spell.

He then pulled Harry into his arms, tucking the man’s head under his chin.

“So . . . you like me,” Harry asked for the lack of anything else to say.

Draco simply laughed. 

* * *

 

Tohru awoke slowly and with the feeling like she was wadding through water.

Her back felt stiff and her throat was like sandpaper.

She couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out where she was or what had happened. She vaguely remembered falling and a smattering of foreign words, but other than that everything was a blur.

With a small whimper of discomfort, the brunette shifted over on her very comfortable bed.

It took a moment for her eyes to focus on her surroundings.

Immediately she realized she was not in her room.

This room was painted, for one thing, in a nice warm yellow that kind of reminded her of the sunrise she viewed with Kyo and Yuki on New Years that one time. The furniture that surrounded her was all dark wood, not the painted white she was used to. Also, none of her possessions were in sight, not even – and she realized this with a sense of great alarm – her picture of her mother.

Pulling herself into a sitting position so that she could get a better look around the room, Tohru also came to two other realizations.

First, the scene outside of her window was rainy and depicted a wide expanse of empty plains with only one tree and a shed with flowers growing around it.

And second, she realized that she wasn’t as alone as she had originally thought.

Sleeping in a chair next to Tohru’s bed, with his head arched in what had to be an uncomfortable position and was sure to give him a crick later on, was Kyo.

A prickled of unease and the intense feeling of wanting to run away as fast as possible in the opposite direction came over Tohru; and for a moment she didn’t understand where it came from.

Then, like a flickering film in her mind, the pieces fell into place.

The rain.

Chasing Kyo out into the front yard.

Her confession.

Kyo’s rejection.

Her offer to Akito for them to start over.

The cliff face crumbled from under her feet.

Kyo’s voice apologizing over and over in her head.

Waking up in a hospital.

The visits.

Greyback.

The torture.

Wishing to die.

Harry.

Tohru gasp and clutched at her head as everything flowed into place.

All the things that had occurred in the past couple of weeks came back to Tohru in a flash and she suddenly remembered what happened. Her head felt suddenly filled to the bursting point and she doubled over in pain, wishing intensely for the pain to go away.

A loud cracking sound had Tohru’s head snapping up, despite the pain.

The crack woke Kyo from his sleep and he jerked up looking around the room with wide eyes. He and Tohru spotted the creature at the same time and they both stared.

It looked like the gremlin Tohru’s mother once told her about when she was little. It had a large head that seemed to be balance on a body too small for it. Large, milky looking eyes stared up at them from out of a face that was composed of wrinkles. Its arms were long and thin, hanging like sticks and dragging on the floor. Its wrinkled hands were holding what looked like some kind of silvery blue substance in a glass flask.

“Master says the Muggle has to drink this when she awakes,” the creature spoke suddenly in a gravelly voice, trusting the flask into Tohru’s hand. Tohru stared from the flask to the creature, not entirely sure what she was supposed to be doing.

“Master says Muggle has to drink it,” the creature said again with an urging motion of its hand.

“I-I have to dr-drink this,” Tohru asked uncertainly, looking at the strange liquid in confusion. It didn’t help that her head still felt like it was likely to explode.

“Tis what Master says and Kreature is doing as Master says.”

Still not completely sure of herself, Tohru uncorked the flask and took an experimental sip and almost gagged. It tasted like undercooked meat and dirt.

“Yous is supposed to be drinking it,” the creature scolded Tohru when she moved to put the disgusting liquid down.

Tohru frowned and looked over at Kyo for some kind of guidance but he just shrugged unhelpfully. Sighing, and wincing a little, Tohru took a good hold of the flask and tilted her head back, emptying it into her mouth and swallowing quickly.

With it empty, Tohru set the flask aside and grimaced at the sticky taste it left in her mouth. However, with great relief, she realized her splitting headache was gone, as well as the aches in her joints she hadn’t noticed at first.

Tohru looked over at the creature, Kreature it had called itself – it was most fitting, who nodded its approval before disappearing with a loud crack. Tohru gapped at the place where it had disappeared before look at Kyo, wondering if he had seen the same thing she had.

Kyo didn’t look as shocked or concerned at Kreature’s disappearing act.

“Wh-what just happened,” Tohru asked after a long stretch of silence in which Kyo just stared at her.

“I think Harry called it Apparating or something like that.”

Tohru stared at him blankly, but Kyo either couldn’t or wouldn’t elaborate, so Tohru let it go for the moment.

Another uncomfortable silence issued throughout the room and in it that initial feeling of wanting to run as far away from Kyo as possible. Tohru now remembered the Kyo had really rejected her.

“Tohru?”

Kyo’s voice was soft and low and filled with something Tohru couldn’t quite identify.

It was irrationally, really it was, and Tohru knew it was irrational.

Maybe it was the emotional shock of suddenly remembering everything in one swell swoop, or maybe it was something else, but it still didn’t excuse Tohru’s reaction.

Really and she had thought she could have handled this lot better. Hadn’t she practiced? Where had those hours alone of prep gone?

“Tohru!”

Kyo’s voice called out from behind her.

Tohru jumped and ran even faster.

She didn’t know where she was or how she got wherever she was, but at the moment that didn’t matter. It took some maneuvering and maybe a bucket load of luck that she didn’t run into any rooms or dead ends, but Tohru finally made it outside.

The sun was blinding and the pathway was made of cobble stone so that Tohru stumbled a little, but that didn’t stop Tohru from giving into her irrational need to run, run, run.

Kyo was still yelling her name but she didn’t slow, because she knew that when she did Kyo would want to talk to her, and she wasn’t sure if she could handle another talk.

It was stupid, ridiculous, irrational.

And she was hopelessly in love with someone she couldn’t be with, so really, she shouldn’t have been blamed for her reaction – especially when the sound of his voice and the thought of him gave her the feeling that she was still being tortured by Greyback.

Tohru reached the edge of the property, given away by the low wall that seemed the surround the large area, and collapsed on it.

There were tears in her eyes and it wasn’t from the wind blowing in her eyes on the run. Breathing heavily, Tohru looked up and then her breath caught in her throat when there was Kyo, standing not even a few feet away from her.

His mouth opened as he got ready to say something.

“Wait . . .” Tohru panted, throwing her hands out as if she was warding against something. “Wait . . . please. Just for a little while . . .” She chocked on a sob and whipped furiously at her eyes to get rid of the tears.

 _Stop crying_ , she willed herself.  _Stop crying! Stop Crying! STOP CRYING!_

But the tears kept coming, no matter how much Tohru wished that they wouldn’t.

Something curled around her wrist.

Startled, Tohru stopped rubbing her eyes and looked up to see Kyo standing over her. His expression was unusually somber.

“I wasn’t thinking properly,” he began softly, his hand moving to cover Tohru’s. He moved so that he was kneeling before Tohru, his head bowed as he continued. “It was stupid and I should have thought about how my words would make you feel. And I should have realized that it could happen. That you could vanish and I wouldn’t get the chance to apologize. It was dumb of me to not realize that it would happen. I keep making the same mistakes, over and over again. It’s like I never learn.”

Tohru opened her mouth, ready to defend Kyo against himself, but Kyo plowed on, not letting her. His voice was practically muted and yet so loud, like it was the only sound in the world, and Tohru was drawn to listen to every word.

“I’m sorry. That I made you cry. I hurt you a lot, and I’m sorry. But . . . this is the last time. I won’t need a second chance. So please, just give me one more chance to be with you.”

Kyo finally looked up and Tohru was able to recognize the feelings reflected in his crimson eyes. After all, hadn’t she seen the same look in her eyes when she looked in the mirror? That hopeless love mixed in with a deep longing and coated with sadness.

“I want us to be together . . . from now on, living together, with you. I hate not being with you. Because, I love you,” Kyo suddenly declared, his voice still muted but very much clear.

The word’s vibrated in Tohru’s mind to the point where nothing else seemed to make sense.

“So,” she finally spoke slowly. “Does that mean . . . that being with you, is okay? Hand in hand, being together, it’s all okay?”

Kyo looked a little surprised at her question and then he smiled and shook his head.

“Yeah . . . and see,” he said, looking down at where their hands were clasped together. “We’re already holding hands.”

It was stupid.

It was ridiculous.

It was completely irrational.

But really, you couldn’t actually blame Tohru for her reaction – especially when she was feeling so irrationally happy that everything seemed to spill over.

So the tears where actually necessary, because she was just so relieved!

It was like a dream come true.

And then Kyo was kissing her, just as soft brush of lips against each other that blurred Tohru’s mind for just a moment. And that was like everything in the world suddenly making absolute sense.

It was just right.

“I have to say,” Kyo said suddenly, looking just shy of smug. “This is the second time.”

Tohru stared at him for a moment and then her entire face flushed a dark red.

“Ah,” she exclaimed completely at a loss. “What! Wh-when?”

Kyo sighed and shook his head.

“Never mind,” he said when Tohru tried to ask again when this supposed first kiss had happened. With little effort, the older teen pulled Tohru to her feet and then asked a question Tohru never thought he would.

“Do you mind . . . if I hug you?” He wasn’t looking at her, but instead at his hands. “Even thought I’ll quickly lose my human body and that . . . being together – with this body – might lead to suffering at times . . .”

He trailed off as if he wasn’t completely sure of where he had been going with that.

“But don’t you know,” Tohru spoke into the sudden silence. Kyo looked up at her almost bashfully and Tohru smiled her radiant smile.

“I love you, Kyo-kun. I love you so much, it can’t be beat!”

“Oh, well then I guess I can’t be beat either,” Kyo told her nonchalantly. “So there’s nothing to be afraid of . . . if you’re with me.”

Tohru thought the smile that spread across Kyo’s face then was the most beautiful thing in the world.

And it was made even better when Kyo pulled her into his arms. 

* * *

 

Dudley could honestly say that this was the strangest thing he had ever seen before, and he’s seen some pretty strange things. It was like a requirement if you lived with Harry Potter or even knew him.

He’d seen an eight-year-old boy disappear into thin air.

He’d seen several people blast their way into his living room through his fireplace.

He’d even seen his Aunt Marge inflate like a balloon and float around on the ceiling.

But this . . . this was just completely bizarre.

It wasn’t every day that you watched a room of people succumb to tears out of nowhere. One minute they’re all talking and trying to get to know each other, and then the next the entire family is crying their eyes out.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, no one was actually wailing, but they were still crying.

All together.

Which was still weird.

“What’s going on in here,” Harry demanded, coming into the room with Ron and Hermione trailing after him. He was looking around with a befuddled expression, like he wasn’t completely sure of what he was seeing.

He knelt beside the closest Sohma, which happened to be Kisa, who was crying into Hiro’s shirt. Hiro, Momiji, and Kureno were so far the only three not crying.

“What’s wrong,” Harry asked the young girl kindly, patting her soothingly on the back.

It wasn’t Kisa who answered though.

“It’s gone,” Akito was the one to say in a thick voice. “It’s broken.”

“What’s broken,” Hermione questioned after sharing a bemused look with her husband.

There was a sudden ruckus outside of the room before Kyo ran in, dragging a bewildered looking Tohru behind him.

“The curse is gone,” he announced to the entire room, holding up his arm.

Dudley wasn’t completely sure of what they were talking about or even what Kyo was trying to show them, but the Sohmas seemed to get it.

“What curse,” Hermione asked at the same time Harry said, “Is that all?”

Rin rounded on Harry, her eyes practically blazing despite the tears cluttered there.

“What do you mean ‘Is that all’,” she demanded.

Harry looked around the room slightly confused.

“I thought it was obvious that the curse was ending,” he said, his voice reflecting his innocent confusion. “I mean, Kureno hasn’t been cursed for years and just recently Hiro and Momiji were released.”

A kind of tense silence settled on the room as everyone stared at one of the guys mentioned – well, everyone except Akito who was still crying into her hands.

“Maybe it was just me noticing,” Harry then said softly, like he didn’t really want to break the silence that had fallen.

“I’d still like to know what curse you all seem to be talking about,” Hermione suddenly inputted in a stern voice.

“Its moot point now, Hermione,” Harry told her, patting her on the shoulder.

Hermione whirled to glare at him and Harry swallowed thickly. There were few things that scared him now that Voldemort was gone, and a Hermione determined to get all the information was one of the few.

“I’ll tell you later,” he amended.

And then he maneuvered his way further into the room and over to Tohru’s side.

“Tohru, it’s nice to see you awake and feeling well,” he commented, hoping that now that he was talking to his cousin Hermione would leave him alone.

Tohru looked away from the Sohmas, who were still eyeing each other, and turned to Harry. A bright smile made its way onto her face.

“Harrison,” she greeted him and then proceed to pull him into a hug that had Harry feeling warm all over. “I want to thank you so much for rescuing me! I’m just sorry that it had to have happened.”

“It was no trouble at all,” Harry told her. “In fact, I should be the one apologizing. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t have even been kidnapped.”

“No, no, you really shouldn’t blame yourself for that,” Tohru said, pulling back and shaking her head. “If anything I should apologize for worrying you.”

“It really was nothing Tohru,” Harry said with conviction. “You honestly have nothing to apologize for. If anything I should be apologizing for not warning you about what happens to the people who associate with me.”

“Well, we definitely know that they’re related,” Ron muttered, watching the two try and convince each other out of their guilt. “Think it’s something in the blood or something?”

“Honestly, Ron,” Hermione said in good fashion with a shake of her head. 

* * *

 

It took a while to gather everyone.

There was a surprising number of people now inhabiting the home of Ron and Hermione Weasley. Not even Harry could completely explain how so many people came to be under the same roof, and he offered to have them all relocated to one of the many manors he had inherited.

Draco had protested against that, saying that they weren’t ‘lived in’ and therefore weren’t suitable to house people, so for the moment things were left alone.

And then there was Mrs. Malfoy, a presence no one was sure what to do with. Really they weren’t even completely sure why she was there, at least everyone else sort of had a reason. Harry supposed that it was only a small comfort that he had sent Vernon and Petunia back to their homes at Privet Drive – Dudley and his family, of course, had wanted to stay.

If anyone were to do a count, the number of occupants would probably be around the 30s, clearly a lot of people, and Harry was dreading the moment when he’d have to tell the Sohmas exactly who he was.

A story which came all too soon for his liking.

Harry had tried to weasel out of it by appealing to Hermione’s good side and making everyone a nice, Muggle cooked, meal.

Sadly it didn’t work.

It was story time, and all 30ish people were going to be there to hear it.

After all, it wasn’t everyday that you get the full story behind the Boy-Who-Lived’s overly exciting life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that whole idea where the story tends to run away from a person? Well this one completely did a number on me. At first it was all cool but then that pesky writer’s block hit and I was literally stuck. Then I had inspiration but by the end of this chapter the story had literally took on a life of its own. I so was not going to break the curse anywhere in this story, I wasn’t really even planning to follow the Fruits Basket storyline, but really, I couldn’t help myself. Besides the whole Tohru/Kyo relationship is too adorable to pass up. Now I’m only sad that I couldn’t fit any Machi/Yuki in this chapter because that scene in the manga was too cute for words.


	11. The Man of Many Titles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hate this chapter. Just putting that out there. Actually, I take that back. I'm dissatisfied.

It took the combined force of Hermione’s extensive knowledge of spells and Harry’s outrageously large amount of magic to make the living room a place where everyone could be seated comfortably. Although, truth be told, Harry didn’t know _why_ any of the Weasleys wanted to listen to this – shouldn’t they already know all the glory details of the war?

In the end, the living room was stretched to the size of the entrance hall in a Malfoy Manor – which was to say that it was very large. There was a good amount of chairs and sofas situated rather haphazardly in a half-circle around the large fireplace.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together on a little ataman in front of the fire, facing the alarmingly large group.

Draco, with Harry’s three children next to him, sat closest to the group, curled up and looking like they were about to be told the best bedtime story ever.

Kyo, Tohru, and Yuki were seated on the sofa next to them, in that order.

The rest of the Sohmas were spread out on the three coaches or armchairs beside them – in their usual groupings (Shigure with Ayame and Hatori, Kureno with Akito, Hiro near Kisa, Rin and Haru, and then Momiji).

The Weasleys took up the next seats (Molly and Arthur, Bill and Fleur, George then Ginny and Percy with Charlie beside him).

Then there were the Dursleys, or at least those that actually cared about Harry – Dudley holding Amaryllis and Gwen beside him.

To finish it out, Luna took the last armchair, bringing the half circle to a close.

Everyone, save Hermione and Ron and maybe even Luna, were staring at Harry in unyielding curiosity, waiting for the tale that made up the boy’s life.

“So,” Harry drawled after a long moment of silence. He looked over at Hermione as he asked, “where to start?”

“Oh,” Hermione said and Harry though she looked very much like she had done in school when the teacher asked a question of her. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she had raised her hand.

“I believe it’s always best to start from the very beginning,” she said in an almost Dumbledore-ish manner.

Harry raised both eyebrows as he considered her answer.

“I suppose,” he said slowly, “that it wouldn’t hurt.”

With that said he turned to face the group and cleared his throat.

“As Hermione just said, the beginning is the best place to start and I suppose the beginning of this story takes place in a small town called Little Hangleton. The town was strictly Muggle and overseen by the Lord of the Riddle House. I think the time was somewhere around the 1910s,” here Harry looked questioningly at Hermione who nodded.

Harry smiled a thanks and turned back to look at the group, all of whom looked extremely confused.

“Just a few miles out from Little Hangleton lived a family of three. They were what remained of the once noble house of Slytherin. The Gaunts – Marvolo and his children Morfin and Merope. Marvolo was extremely set in his ways and believed himself and his family to be above the law. It wasn’t long before he and his son were arrested for torturing defenseless Muggles. Without her father’s influence, Merope took the chance to escape. She fed a mislead Tom Riddle – heir to the Riddle house – a love potion and the two eloped.

“A year into it, Merope found herself pregnant. Foolishly, she believed that Tom would have no choice but to stay with her and so she stopped giving him love potions. Tom shortly left, not caring that the girl was pregnant with his child. Merope fell into a depression and then died after giving birth to her child. Her dying wish, name the child Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

Harry paused here to make sure everyone was following him. They were, although they still looked slightly confused. He could kind of understand; he was giving them the condensed version of Tom Riddle’s life.

“Little Tom grew up in the orphanage his mother had given birth to him in. He grew up with a reasonable upbringing, if not slightly neglected like all orphans are in orphanages. See, it was a time of war in the Muggle world, World War I was starting, and therefore there were a lot of orphans. So Tom was not deemed special in any way. To the adults he was polite, if not a little quite. To the children, however, it was a different story.

“The children all saw Tom as someone . . . different. He didn’t behave like them and he was weird. And, knowing children, what was weird was . . . bullied.” Harry pulled a face at this before letting out a sigh. “It wasn’t long before Tom felt the need to . . . stand up against the assault. While no one could really blame him for retaliating, the things he did were not . . .  _right_. However, no one could really pin it on him.

“Tom, however, came to realize the things he did were of his own creation and he learned to control it. For once he felt special, different, like he was  _someone_.”

Harry drifted off for a moment, the image of little Tom Riddle flitting into his mind. It took an elbow from Hermione to bring him back to the story at hand.

“When Tom was eleven, he got a most strange visitor. It was Albus Dumbledore, come to tell Tom that he was a wizard and that all the special little things he could do was magic. See, Tom Riddle was a wizard and he was invited to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He went and he was brilliant, smart, and an all around nice guy – even for a Slytherin—”

“What’s a Slytherin,” Shigure cut in, receiving curious nods all over from those not in the know about Hogwarts and hers workings.

“Slytherin is one of the four Houses at Hogwarts,” Hermione rushed to say in her normal overcoming need to share her intense knowledge with just about everyone. “They house the cunning and ambitious. There’s also Ravenclaw for the intelligent and bookish, Gryffindor for the brave and courageous, and finally Hufflepuff for the kind and loyal.”

“And just so you know,” Ron felt the need to add in. “Gryffindors and Slytherins don’t mix. At all.” And here he threw a glare of distrust in Draco’s direction – to which the blonde simply ignore him.

“As I was saying,” Harry spoke up over the group to get their attention once more.

“Tom became prefect and the head boy and he even won an award for special services for the school. He graduated and went out into the world to achieve great things – or so many people were lead to believe. Last anyone head of brilliant Tom Riddle was that he had taken up a job at Borgin and Burkes. After that he seemed to disappear off the face of the Earth.

“Around the same time that everyone seemed to be forgetting about Tom Riddle, an unknown pureblood activist began to show up. The mystery person’s beliefs were immediately known: he/she did not approve of Muggles or Muggleborns. At first, no one really paid the person much mind – and then the killings started.”

Tohru let out a little gasp and Kisa’s hand flew up to her mouth.

“They were mild threats, an unknown Muggle dead or some unimportant Muggleborn gone missing.”

Tohru gave a little whimper at that, her eyes glossy at the thought of the unknown person dying. Harry continued on although even he was disgusted and saddened by what had occurred during the first war.

“Word spread and rumors were traded but it wasn’t given much thought until the killings had escalated to a terrible point. And people began to get scared.

“It was one attack against the Ministry that revealed this new terrorist to be a man by the name of Lord Voldemort. And he had a strong following – wizards who were dressed in black robes and wore masks that concealed their identities.”

Harry could tell that everyone was getting into the story now. They had been unfamiliar with Tom Riddle – the supposed intelligent nobody – but Lord Voldemort was someone they had at the very least heard about.

“Fear spread and people grew worried when Voldemort and his followers weren’t immediately brought down. But hope was there as long as the Ministry and Hogwarts did not fall to the Dark.

“And while this was going on, and the Ministry seemed to be chasing its tail, Albus Dumbledore – leader of the Light – started up his own group of vigilante soldiers. He called the group the Order of the Phoenix and together they fought to overthrow Voldemort from underneath the Ministry’s noses. They were given free reign for the most part.

“It was a full out war by this point. A lot of people were dying and many had fled the country out of fear. It was a very dark time. There seemed no hope.

“And then, in the height of it all, Dumbledore stumbled across what seemed to be a solution. While interviewing a potential teacher for a position at Hogwarts, the supposed prophet gave out a prophecy that spoke of a Savior, a person who would defeat Voldemort. Unfortunately, one of Voldemort’s underlings heard the prophecy and he rushed to tell Voldemort all about it.”

Harry drew in a deep breath, momentarily breaking everyone out of the daze they had fall in.

Hermione reached over and grabbed Harry’s hand, sensing what was coming next, and Ron shot concerned glances at his best friend every now and then.

Everyone was sitting on the edge of their seats, absorbed as they were by the story. There were some sad looks sent toward Harry by those who knew the next part.

Harry took another deep breath and continued on, his voice going flat to keep the emotion from spilling in.

“On October 31st, 1981, Voldemort appeared in a town called Godric’s Hallow and he entered the home of a small family. He immediately killed the husband, who was trying to protect his wife and 15-month-old son. The wife ran up the stairs and barricaded herself in the nursery. Voldemort blew the door aside and turned his wand upon the woman.

“He commanded her to hand over the child, but the woman begged him to kill her instead. And so he did. And once she was dead, Voldemort turned his wand onto the baby. And he shot the killing curse at him.”

Tohru was sobbing by this point of the story.

It didn’t take a genius to know who Harry was talking about. You could hear it in his voice.

The Sohmas were staring at Harry with varying looks of shock, sorrow, sympathy, and guilt.

“But the curse didn’t work,” Harry powered on, trying to ignore the looks, and the hand squeezing his. “It rebounded off of the baby and hit Voldemort, burning his body and destroying half of the house. Voldemort fled from the place, half-alive, and escaped. And the baby was picked from the rubble and sent live with his last living relative – that was known of at least.”

“That’s horrible,” Tohru whispered when Harry took a minute to collect himself.

He could see all too clearly the scene in his head – how Voldemort had easily killed his parents as if there were nothing but playthings.

“Well I’m pretty sure all of you know that that baby was me,” Harry said after a long moment of silence.

“So . . . you managed to defeat an evil wizard when you were only 15 months old,” Yuki asked as if wanting clarification.

“Not really, it’s kind of complicated,” Harry said with a bit of irritation in his voice. He never did like it when people assumed he had defeated Voldemort when he was a baby. It hadn’t been him . . . it had been his mother’s sacrifice.

“Try us,” Kyo challenged.

Harry shot his a glare before turning to Hermione. She had always been good at explaining this kind of thing.

“Um . . . well it’s _assumed_ that Harry’s mother didn’t  _have_  to die,” Hermione began rather timidly, looking a little uncertain. Harry urged her on and she seemed to gain confidence the longer she spoke. “And since she had been protecting Harry when Voldemort killed her, she sort of . . . sacrificed herself. A sacrifice like this can be powerful magic. It was this protective magic that allowed Harry to survive the Killing curse.”

“So . . . your mother defeated Voldemort . . . after she died,” Hiro reiterated uncertainly, and he was a little bit startled at the blinding smile Harry sent his way.

“No one’s ever said it that way, but that is essentially correct.”

“Well that’s all good and what not, but I thought there was a war that was a little bit more recent,” Rin pointed out.

“Yes there was,” Harry agreed. “I wasn’t exactly done with the telling.”

Rin looked pointedly at him, waiting for him to continue. Rolling his eyes at the girl’s attitude, Harry picked up his story once more.

“Alright, so . . . ten years after Voldemort was defeated, I got my acceptance letter, learned that I was wizard and reentered the Wizarding world. Every year at school Voldemort tried to come back to power and every year, along with Ron and Hermione’s help, I stopped him. However, in my fourth year, Voldemort was able to gain his body back.”

Harry swallowed thickly to get passed the lump that formed in his throat at the thought of his fourth year . . . and Cedric.

“He went into hiding for a year, and he was able to do that because the Ministry was covering up his return —”

“More like ignoring,” Arthur snorted from across the room.

“Right. At the end of my fifth year, Voldemort tried to get the prophecy, for he had not heard the whole thing. He was thwarted by Dumbledore —”

“And you and your friends,” Molly inputted in a disapproving tone.

Harry ducked his head humbly to avoid her stern gaze.

“And Voldemort was brought into the open. And so the second Wizarding War began. Because of this, and the prophecy that Dumbledore heard —”

“What exactly did this prophecy say,” Shigure asked curiously, “Because I’m still not completely sure why someone would want to kill a baby.”

Harry bit down on his bottom lip and shot a look at Ron. He lifted his shoulders in an unhelpful shrug and so Harry turned to Hermione. She raised her brows and motioned for him to go on. With a little sigh Harry turned back to face the group.

“‘ _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches . . . Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies . . . and the Dark Lord will mark him as an equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not . . . and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives . . . The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies . . ._ ’”

Silence issued as everyone absorbed the words of a prophecy that, until now, only a few had been privy to.

Harry wondered if Tohru would ever run out of tears.

“Right,” Harry said awkwardly, searching his mind for where he had left off. “Um . . . oh, yeah – because Voldemort was now in the open, and because of the prophecy, Dumbledore spent all of my sixth year teaching me how to defeat Voldemort.

“See Voldemort feared death, and he tried all he could to become immortal. And he did, in a sense. He created things called Horcruxes. To do this a wizard has to rip apart his soul and store it in an object.”

“How do you rip apart your soul,” Ayame asked curiously, although he looked faintly disturbed.

“By committing the ultimate crime. Murder,” Hermione said in a low tone.

Now the faintly disturbed look turned into mortification and it was mirrored around the room.

“And Voldemort made seven of these,” Harry told them. “I managed to get rid of one in my second year and Dumbledore destroyed another one that year. At the end of the year Dumbledore found another one. He and I went on a mission to get and destroy it. However, when we came back Dumbledore was killed.”

“Oh no,” Tohru moaned and leaned her head on Kyo’s shoulder, causing the redhead to tense up a little bit, before relaxing and wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

“With no Dumbledore, the full task of defeating Voldemort and destroying his Horcruxes fell on me. I knew that I couldn’t go back to the school and I knew I couldn’t stay out in the open. With Ron and Hermione’s help, I set out to destroy Voldemort. It took almost an entire year . . . there were many close calls.

“It was unknowingly we were also racing to obtain the same thing. See, Dumbledore knew he was going to die by the end of the year and so in his will he sent me some items he knew could help me on my journey. He also gave me clues on what I could use to battle against the Horcuxes.”

Here Harry paused and looked over at Hermione, who pulled out an old book and then cleared her throat.

“It has to do with a couple of brothers,” with that said Hermione cracked open the book and began to read.

“‘There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight —’”

“Midnight,” George immediately interrupted. “Mum always told us midnight,” he then went on to explain when questioning looks were shot his way.

“Yeah, well this is the original so we’ll stick with it,” Harry told him, although he sounded faintly amused. He then motioned for Hermione to continue.

“‘In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure.

And Death spoke to them —’”

“Excuse me, what,” Hiro interrupted skeptically

“It’s a story,” Ron told him with a roll of his eyes.

“‘And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of the three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him.

So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.

Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.

And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.

Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so talking with wonder of the adventure they had had and admiring Death’s gifts.

In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination.

The first brother traveled on for a week more, and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally, with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and of how it made him invincible.

That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden upon his bed. The thief took the wand and for good measure, slit the oldest brother’s throat.’”

“Saw that one coming,” Haru muttered into Rin’s ear.

“‘And so Death took the first brother for his own.

Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him.

Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as to truly join her.

And so Death took the second brother from his own.

But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life.’”

Hermione closed the book on that note with a satisfied look on her face. Everyone else just looked a little confused, not sure what the story had to do with Harry’s life.

“That story,” Harry spoke up again, “tells about the three objects only a few know about called the Deathly Hallows. The Elder Wand, the Cloak of Invisibility, and the Resurrection Stone – and having all three together makes the person the Master of Death.”

“So Dumbledore wanted you to find these items,” Draco asked skeptically.

“Exactly.”

“But that’s impossible,” the blonde immediately went to protest. “The wand, sure! The cloak, maybe. But not even magic can bring back the dead!”

Harry arched his eyebrow at the man but did not make a move to dissuade him.

“We found out about the Hallows too late, however, and by that time Voldemort had taken the Elder wand from its previous owner. For a while, things seemed pretty bleak.

“On May 1st, the war reached its boiling point,” Harry let out a little sigh. “We call it the Battle of Hogwarts. It was . . . chaotic. I’m not sure how you think a war is, but this . . . there was no order, none whatsoever. It was bloody and painful . . .”

Harry shook his head, trying to dislodge the images that flashed through his head.

Hermione squeezed his hand and he sent her a small smile of thanks.

“In the end it was just me and Voldemort. He had the Elder wand and I had destroyed all of his Horcruxes.” Harry paused and closed his eyes. “I won. And that was the end of it.”

With that said Harry sat back in his chair.

It was silent in the room for a long time as everyone took the time to absorb all that they had learned.

“So,” Draco was the first to speak. “What was all that about that Tom Riddle guy in the beginning.”

“Well, Lord Voldemort was Tom Riddle.”

“Wait,” Narcissa cut in, the first words she had spoke to them all day. “The Dark Lord was a half blood,” she asked incrudiously.

Harry nodded and the woman sat back with a strained look on her face.

“Well isn’t that ironic,” Draco mumbled to himself. Then louder he asked, “What about the Hallows – did you actually find them?”

“Yes, I did. I already had the cloak – that’s been passed down in my family for generation. And I won the ward off of Riddle when I defeated him. The stone Dumbledore actually gave to me . . . so essentially I own all the Hallows.”

“So you’re Master of Death,” Kisa questioned with wide eyes.

Harry just stared at her for a long while before answering.

“I have a lot of names. I’m the Boy-Who-Lived, the Savior, the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice, the Vanquisher of the Dark, and the Master of Death. But sometimes I’d just like to be seen as Harry. Just plain Harry.”

Another silence issued after that. One that seemed to last a long time.

After sitting in it for a while Harry sighed and left the room. 

* * *

 

Ron had never realized how unnerving staring was until now and he could now understand why Harry was so against it.

Every Sohma, plus Tohru, were sat in the living room staring at him curiously.

He couldn’t even remember how he had landed in this position – and where the bloody hell had everyone else gone?

“So . . . magic,” Tohru spoke up uncertainly and Ron felt a surge of affection go out to her – bless her soul.

“Yeah, magic. It’s real and we’re wizards and all that rot,” he told her, feeling in his element now – after all, he was very familiar with magic.

“And there’s a . . . Wizarding World,” Hatori piped in, picking up when Tohru seemed to be overcome with shyness.

“Yeah. We basically exist alongside Muggles but for the most part we’re pretty much separated. We hide our world with magic. There are charms to confuse people or make them forget when they’ve seen something they can’t quite understand.”

“I think Harry mentioned something like that, once,” Shigure said with a thoughtful expression.

“So can all of you talk to snakes,” Ayame questioned, finally getting out a question he’d been dying to ask for a while.

Ron looked questioningly at him before shaking his head.

“No, Parseltongue – snake language – is very rare. In fact, Harry’s the only one in existence that can speak it. It’s normally inherited through the Slytherin line.”

“I thought Slytherin was a house name at that Hogwarts School,” Rin questioned suspiciously.

“Yeah, but the house was named after a famous wizard named Salazar Slytherin. All the houses are named after famous witches and wizards.”

Rin nodded in understanding, relaxing back against Haru.

“So Hogwarts is a school that teaches magic,” Kisa questioned quietly after a stretch of silence.

“Yeah. Acceptance letters are given out when you hit eleven and then you go to Hogwarts for seven years,” Ron readily answered.

He vaguely wondered if Hermione was rubbing off on him because he had never answered questions so easily before.

“Why when you turn eleven,” Momiji asked curiously with a little tilt to his head.

“Well that’s when the Ministry believes our magic has developed enough and that we’re mental ready to learn how to use magic.”

“Ministry,” Akito questioned and Ron settled in with a slight grin, preparing for a very long conversation. 

* * *

 

Tohru was no longer sure on what she was supposed to think about her long lost cousin.

After listening to Harry’s story, she felt like he was some kind of superhero. He was like a figment of her imagination and she kind of wondered if she had imagined him.

But no, the pain she could see inside of him was real. And now, well now she slightly knew why it was there. After listening to Harry’s life . . . everything about him . . . it all just seemed to make sense now.

“Unbelievable, isn’t it.”

Tohru looked up in shock to see one of the Weasleys, Ginny she remembered Harry calling her, standing in the doorway.

“Harry’s life always seemed like a story or show to me, I could only imagine what you’re thinking.” Ginny walked further into the room and sat on the bed. “But you learn to get used to it the longer he’s around.”

“It’s just a little much to take in,” Tohru admitted a little quietly.

“Yeah,” Ginny agreed with a little sad sigh.

Tohru peered over at her thoughtfully before finally saying what was on her mind.

“You love him, don’t you?”

Ginny looked a little globsmacked, her mouth dropping open in shock before she had the sense to close it and try and stammer out some kind of reply to Tohru’s innocent enough question.

“Well . . . I . . . um, yeah but . . . you know,” she said unceremonially, waving her hand and hoping a little desperately that Tohru would drop it. Yes, she still loved Harry, and yes she had had a little bit of trouble getting over that love, but still . . .

Tohru was still looking at her thoughtfully, brown eyes filled with compassion.

“It’ll get better I’m sure,” the Japanese girl finally said. “Time heals all wounds as they say.”

Ginny blinked at the younger girl for a moment, still shell-shocked.

To think she had come into the room to see how Harry’s cousin was coping and that cousin ended up comforting her.

It was amazing and reminded her so much of Harry that she wasn’t even the least bit surprised that the two were related – it must be in their blood to act this way.

“Thanks, Tohru,” Ginny to the girl with a little laugh and a shake of her head when Tohru looked a little questioningly at her. 

* * *

 

Dudley sat in the spare room Hermione Weasley had given to him for him and his family to stay in, his hands in his hair.

His mind was reeling as he tried to make sense of the shitload of information Harry, his  _cousin_  for fucks sake, had given him.

He couldn’t help but wonder at how oblivious he had been when he was younger.

Had he really let his mother and father’s horrible parenting blind him so much that he hadn’t noticed the shit his own cousin had gone through?

That thought in and of itself kind of sickened him and he couldn’t believe the amount of selfishness he had dished out when he was a kid.

His only comfort was that he had grown out of it in time to see that his parents had been wrong.

But still . . . to think all that had happened and he hadn’t been aware.

It was crazy.

And then there was Harry himself.

Dudley could see how torn up he still was even seven years afterwards so he couldn’t even image what it had been like for him going through it. How had Harry even hidden all that crazy stuff anyways?

Dudley shook his head and imagined his thoughts rattling around like LEGO blocks.

“Honey, are you alright?”

Dudley’s head jerked up to see Gwen standing in the doorway, Mary sleeping peacefully against her shoulder. Dudley sighed wearily and lifted his shoulders in a jerky shrug.

Looking very much concerned, Gwen placed Mary in the crib Molly Weasley had magic-ed before walking over and sat next to Dudley on the bed.

“You shouldn’t be beating yourself up about this,” Gwen told him soothingly, rubbing his tense shoulders.

“I just don’t understand how I could have been so oblivious,” Dudley moaned into his hands, rubbing them down his face and then through his hair. “He went through hell and back and I didn’t even have an inking.”

“Stop being so hard on yourself,” Gwen scolded although her hands never stopped their soothing massage. “You couldn’t have known. It’s obvious he doesn’t talk about it. And you told me yourself that you two didn’t exactly get along when you were younger.”

Dudley had to admit that she was right – as always – but that still didn’t make him feel all that much better. He still felt like he should have at least _guessed_.

Hadn’t Harry mentioned something happening when those Dementor things attacked them?

And Dudley had just sat there like a lump and accused him while he was going through all this shit.

“Stop it,” Gwen commanded him sternly. Her small hands cupped his face and she turned his head so that he could see her hard expression. “You can’t do anything about the past so stop beating yourself up over it. If you really want to do something you’ll start now.”

“But —”

“She’s right”

 For the second time in ten minutes Dudley found himself staring at someone in the doorway.

Harry gave him a small grimace before making his way into the room.

“Even though this makes me a slight hypocrite to say this, you really can’t beat yourself up over the past. It just makes you bitter and miserable.”

“Says you,” Dudley muttered lowly to which Harry snorted. “I don’t even know how you can stand there and try and ease  _my_ mind,” he then said, looking up at his cousin with a million questions burning in his eyes.

“I’ve gotten over it. Let sleeping dogs lie and all that rot,” the dark-haired man said with a shrug.

“You can’t really have forgotten everything I’ve done to you,” Dudley asked in disbelief.

“Well, no, I can’t. But seeing as I now have two kids with my former enemy, I can’t really hold it against you. We’ll just chalk it up to bad parenting and leave it at that.”

Dudley continued to blink up at him in shock before he finally shook his head.

“You’re too good. I’m not even sure how you turned out that way given the hand you’ve been dealt.”

“I like to call it being optimistic.” 

* * *

 

Narcissa sat in the kitchen, seated comfortably in the breakfast nook as she sipped at a cup of tea Molly Weasley had given her.

She was pretty much alone with her thoughts, the closest person being the Lovegood girl who was humming on the little porch outside of the window.

As Narcissa sipped her tea, she thought over the information she had just gained from Potter.

The mere thought of the Dark Lord being nothing but a half-blood scared of dying and scorned from abandonment was very much ironic. To think that for years she had served under a man that was an object of what he preached against . . .

Narcissa scowled into her cup, her temper simmering for a moment before she realized that she really couldn’t do anything about it. The Dark Lord was dead after all.

But still . . .

“Mother?”

Narcissa looked away from her simmering reflection in the brown water of her cup

 Draco was standing there, his expression carefully confused.

“Do you not like the tea,” he asked, his voice as careful as his expression and it was then that Narcissa realized she was holding the cup so tightly that her knuckles looked white.

Sighing, she placed the cup down with a soft clink.

“No, it is not that.” Draco arched both brows questioning her silently. “It’s just rather irksome how the wool has been pulled over my eyes, many of pureblood’s eyes, for so long.”

To this Draco nodded understandingly.

“But it’s the past and we can’t do anything about it,” he told his mother softly.

“Too right you are. I simply lost myself for a moment.”

A silence fell over the two of them and Draco moved about in the pretense of making himself a cup of tea. Narcissa watched him carefully and from the tenseness in his shoulders she knew that he knew where the conversation was about to head.

“Did you talk to Potter?”

Draco sighed softly and put down the tea pot, picking up his cup and taking a long drink before turning to look at his mother. Narcissa noted that he looked nervous and she was pleased that she could see bits of her son shining through his carefully placed mask.

“I did,” he finally admitted after a long moment.

Narcissa waited and when no more was said she prompted, “And?”

“He’s . . . he told me . . . I . . .” Draco trailed off uncertainly and Narcissa was intrigued by his stunted admission.

She continued to stare at him, wondering if what Potter had told him was that earth shattering that it had shaken him up.

“It was a natural birth,” Draco finally blurted out. “No potions or . . . or spells or . . . or anything.”

Narcissa blinked, her hand frozen in the act of lifting her cup to her mouth. After a rather tense silence she put the cup down and turned fully to face her only son.

“Pardon me, but I’m not quite sure what you mean? Natural birth with no potions or spells? That’s impossible,” she rambled. “No male birth is possible unless the pregnant party has a magical creature inheritance.”

Narcissa looked inquiringly over at Draco who was steadfast avoiding her gaze.

Like a puzzle piece suddenly fitting into place it all made sense.

“Potter has a creature inheritance,” she said out loud and Draco made a little chocking sound. Narrowing her eyes, the Malfoy matriarch demanded, “What is it then?”

Draco blinked, jerking his gaze over to his mothers.

“What?”

“What is it,” Narcissa repeated, sounding like she was talking to a young child.

“Wait,” Draco said, putting up his hand in a halting motion. “You mean you don’t care?”

Now it was Narcissa’s turn to arch both brows at him.

“And why should I? Was it I who preached all that pureblood spew to you? I have no problem with it . . . unless its’ something degrading of course. I’m not too sure how I would react if he were part fey, they’re an uncultured lot altogether.”

Draco had to laugh at that one, his face splitting into a smile Narcissa hadn’t seen in so many years.

“No, no mother, he’s not a fey,” the young man reassured her.

“Well then, what is he,” Narcissa questioned when Draco was not so forthcoming with the answer.

“He’s a Nyx.”

And then Narcissa had a moment of unMalfoyish behavior.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise and Draco could not help but grin brightly at her.

“Well,” Narcissa managed after a moment. “Tie me up and call me a Cornish Pixie.”

The resounding laughter that followed was sure to keep Narcissa Malfoy in a good mood for years to come. 

* * *

 

Steam billowed up and spread quickly around the room, filling it with humid air.

Harry let out a long content sigh as he ducked his head under the steady stream of hot water.

Slowly, like the water running down his bare back, Harry allowed his mind to empty and his body to finally relax.

Tohru was safe, the Sohmas were safe, his children were safe . . . everything was perfect.

“Ah,” Harry shouted out, jumping up when he felt cold arms wrap around his waist.

He spun around, wondering who in the bloody hell would think to attack him in the shower – and with a curse on his lips.

“Someone’s jumpy.”

Harry glared at the blonde, trying to remove the hands that seemed to have glued themselves to his hips.

He settled for a glare when he was unsuccessful.

“You’re in my shower,” the Savior grounded out.

Draco lifted a finely arched brow before looking about him in mild shock.

“Why yes, I do believe I am.”

Harry had to struggle to control his rage – and his growing arousal.

“Maybe I need to spell it out,” he said between his teeth. “ _Why_  are you in my _shower_?”

Draco smirked and, instead of answering, leaned down to nuzzle Harry’s neck.

A small gasp escaped Harry when he felt Draco placing hot, openmouthed kisses up his neck. For a moment he forgot his question, basking in the glow of the attention he was receiving and the lust curling in his stomach.

He trailed his fingers down Draco’s back, writhing under the feel of the blonde’s tongue trailing down his neck, over his collarbone and then down his chest. The heat from the shower was clouding his thoughts and he felt like he was just likely to explode.

Harry stumbled a little as Draco pushed him back.

His bare back hit the cold tile of the shower wall, making him gasp in shock at the sudden change in temperature. And then he was gasping for a whole other reason when he felt hot, all encompassing heat cover his throbbing erection.

Harry looked down to see Malfoy kneeling on the floor, his head burying in Harry’s lap and his mouth filled with Harry’s cock.

Harry just about came right then and there.

One of his hands came up to tangle in Draco’s hair and then other went to trying to grab something behind him to hold onto – but all he came up with was slippery walls.

Draco’s tongue was running down the underside of his dick, and then over the tip, and Harry could feel his orgasm building up quickly in his stomach.

And just when he felt like he couldn’t take anymore . . .

Draco stopped.

The blonde pulled back and looked up at Harry with a self-satisfied expression.

“Wh-why,” Harry panted, his hand still wrapped in Draco’s hair. “Why did you stop?”

Draco cocked his head to the side before standing up slowly.

“Oh, I thought you didn’t want me in your shower?”

Harry glared halfheartedly up at the aristocrat.

“Git,” he muttered, to which Draco laughed.

“Really Potter? And here I thought you wanted me to help you out.”

Harry was pretty sure that if he hadn’t been so aroused he would have hexed the smirk right off of the blonde’s pointy face.

“Come now Potter, all you have to do is ask.”

Harry flushed bright red and turned away. He would not be reduced to begging, if he had to, he’d finish it himself.

“Potter,” Draco cajoled, nuzzling Harry’s neck before placing fluttering kisses along his jaw.

Harry growled in annoyance, because really it wasn’t fair that his mate had to be such a Slytherin.

“Fine,” he finally caved, turning to face Draco.

He lifted his arms and wrapped them around the ex-Slytherin’s neck, pulling him in close so that he could kiss him. The action took Draco by surprise for a moment but he was quick to participate.

Pulling back slightly, Harry peered up at the blonde through his eyelashes and breathed, “ _Please_.”

He could see Draco’s Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed thickly, and for a moment he was thoroughly pleased with himself.

That was quickly replaced with surprise when Draco lifted him up and began to ravish his mouth.

Harry moved his legs to wrap around Draco’s waist and shivered when he felt the blonde’s cock pushing against his entrance. Harry could feel the need to be filled by Draco consuming him and he pushed his hip down eagerly.

Draco slid in easily, buried deep inside Harry, and he let out a deep groan with a curse into Harry’s shoulder.

Harry hardly noticed; his head filled with lust and the Nyx purring deeply in his mind.

And then Draco was moving and Harry felt like he was tipping off the edge of the world.

Vaguely he wondered if he’d ever get used to having sex with Draco – because every time seemed just as new and overwhelming as the first.

It was over too soon for Harry’s taste, but then again he hadn’t really expected it to last too long given the state he had been in before they began going at it like wild rabbits.

The water from the shower was turning lukewarm now, raining down on Harry and Draco’s limp forms.

Harry felt like he wouldn’t be able to move for a couple of days – and he was perfectly fine with that. He was content to lean against the now slightly warm tiles behind him, with Draco pressed against him and the blondes head cradled against his shoulder.

“This is insane.”

Harry’s head turned down a little, but there was no point as Draco’s face was still pressed into his shoulder.

“You mean us,” Harry asked quietly and shrugged awkwardly. “Yeah, it  _is_  insane.”

Draco muffled a laugh in Harry’s shoulder.

“Yes, the ‘us’ is a little insane, but that’s not what I was talking about.”

Harry arched a brow questioningly even thought Draco couldn’t see it. But it didn’t matter because the blonde continued anyways.

“What’s insane is how much I still want you.”

This admission made Harry bark out a laugh because he wholeheartedly agreed.

Even now, after that amazing round of shower sex, Harry wanted to climb out and pull Draco into his room so they could go at it again.

“We just need to get used to each other, that’s all,” Harry muttered although he didn’t quite believe it.

Draco lifted his head finally just so Harry could see the incrudious expression on his face.

Harry laughed and pushed at the other man’s shoulder.

“Come on, we should probably get out before everyone gets ideas.”

“Let them,” he heard Malfoy mumble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So . . . I really, really didn’t like this chapter. It didn’t turn out like I had planned at all . . . Really I was planning on Ginny acting all sneaky and bitchy and what not, but then I remembered that this is supposed to be strictly cannon – except the whole Harry/Draco thing – and so no bitchy Ginny. And it worked anyways. I’m just an unsatisfied writer. Any who, I put this up as soon as I finished it, meaning there were probably some errors.


	12. Epilogue

The night was quiet, the soft sound of nocturnal creatures moving about. The air was stiff with a sense of mystery that often occupied this time of day. And the moon was heavy in the air, one large circle that had Harry remembering bittersweet memories.

He gazed out at it all from the window of his room at the Weasley Hubble, as Ron had so elegantly named it. The soft breathing of his three children was the only sounds in the room as it should be at one o’clock in the morning.

It was a week after the whole Tohru rescue and the Sohmas, along with the Dursleys and a good chunk of the Weasleys, had all been sent home.

Malfoy had also left with his mother in tow.

A feeling of unease swept through Harry at that and a thought came unbidden to his mind.

What if Malfoy didn’t mean it when he said he liked Harry?

Shaking the thought from his head, Harry went back to staring out the window.

He thought about happy things . . .

Like the look on Tohru’s face when she told him that she and Kyo were trying out a relationship. And how shocked she had looked when Harry had told her that he’d thought they had already been in a relationship.

And then there had been Mrs. Malfoy’s ‘goodbye’, if you could call it that.

That had been a weird conversation all around. And the look she had been giving him had bordered on awe – it had been a little unnerving.

It had started out simple enough.

She had thanked him for keeping Draco safe and inquired politely on Tohru’s health. And then she had asked about the twins, which was to be expected.

But it had been her parting that had left Harry staring after her in shock.

She had looked him straight in the eye and said, “I expect you at the Manor within the next couple of months. My step-mother has an item that would suit you well.”

And if that hadn’t been confusing enough she had hugged him and said, “Out of everyone, I’m glad it’s you.”

And that had been it.

And Harry had been left stunned.

Shaking his head to dislodge the thought, Harry turned away from the window and looked over his children sleeping peacefully in his bed.

As was common with them, Teddy was sandwiched in between the twins, one on each arm. They were his heart now and Harry loved them a lot more than he thought was possible to love someone.

Moving silently across the room, Harry dropped a hand on Luke’s head. He ran his hand over the fine blonde hair and found his thoughts drifting to Draco.

He couldn’t help it really.

“They’re something else.”

The soft voice had Harry tensing up.

He hadn’t heard the blonde entering, wasn’t even aware that he was in the house.

Slowly, he turned around to find Draco Malfoy standing there, silhouetted against the heavy moon.

It was like Harry’s thoughts had conjured him up.

“What are you doing here,” the brunette whispered, his hand slipping out of Luke’s hair.

“I came to talk to you.”

Harry arched a brow at the simply put answer.

“And you couldn’t have done that in the morning.”

Draco lifted and dropped his shoulders in an unMalfoyish move.

He hadn’t moved away from where he was leaning against the window pane.

Harry thought he looked like some kind of angel, his hair and eyes shining brightly in the moonlight.

“Now seemed like a good time.”

Harry sighed and shook his head, deciding Malfoy really wasn’t worth his time right now.

“Well say what you want to say and leave please. I’m tired.”

“You weren’t sleeping when I got here,” Malfoy pointed out and finally he moved, walking toward Harry.

Panic filled Harry for a moment before he managed to squish it down.

And then his eyes nearly popped out of his head when Malfoy dropped to one knee.

He then pulled out a black velvet box and grabbed Harry’s hand.

Harry was pretty sure the world had stopped moving.

“Harry James Potter,” Draco began in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “I’ve loved you for I don’t know how many years and have always been too cowardly to admit it before. But it’s time that I man up and I plan to start now. Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

Harry was pretty sure his world had been tilted upside down.

He didn’t know what to say.

He was too stunned and Malfoy looked too earnest and nothing seemed to make complete sense.

Except Draco was proposing and it was in the wee hours of the morning and everything seemed so surreal.

“Harry?”

It was the sound of his name that brought him back to the real world.

“Can you answer soon? My knee’s starting to hurt.”

It was such a Malfoy thing to say and Harry laughed. And he was surprised when it came out watery.

“Well,” Malfoy asked irritably.

Harry smiled down at him before throwing his arms around the blonde in a move that he would later be embarrassed about.

“Of course,” he whispered. “I was afraid you would never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I might do a sequel. But be warned, if I do write one it probably won't be just a Fruits Basket/Harry Potter crossover. Just saying! So . . . yay or nay?


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